A Young Con
by SherlockXHolmes23
Summary: Even a teenage Neal Caffrey can get into trouble. It doesn't help that Peter Burke is on his trail, following what little evidence there is in what seems to be a simple case of robbery. Jewelry will be stolen, coffee will be spilled, and so much more. AU
1. Accidental Encounter

A/N: I've been working on this for the past couple of weeks, and I thought I would post the first chapter. I have about three chapters written so far, so it shouldn't be a long wait for updates. The chapters are somewhat short, but they will get longer as the story progresses.  
>Disclaimer: I own nothing, not even the hammy down clothes I am wearing. They were my sisters.<p>

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><p>He ran as fast as he could, the heavy brown backpack bouncing up and down as he went. He bumped into people, who had yelped in surprise. Those people were met with muttered apologies as Neal ran along the crowded sidewalk, trying to escape from them.<p>

He had to get away from them, before they realized who he was and what he stole from them. If they found him… well it wouldn't end well, to say the least.

Glancing back, Neal realized that the goons from the warehouse were hot on his trail. He sped up, no realizing who was in front of him. With the push and pull of the sidewalk traffic, Neal hadn't seen the man holding a tray of hot coffees in his hands. Instantly the two collided and the hot brown liquid spilled in every direction –most went on the man's suit though-.

"I am so sorry!" Neal said, helping the man to his feet. He felt slightly embarrassed for knocking the man over, but there was little he could do about it now. Save for apologizing and moving on.

A curse escaped the man's lips as he tried to wipe the coffee off his clothing. When he realized that just wiping it off with his hands wouldn't work, the man looked at Neal with subdued annoyance.

The man seemed to realize that it was just a kid he was dealing with and he quickly looked away. He said, "Its fine… Just watch where you're going next time, okay kid?"

Neal nodded at him and apologized once more. He knew that if he stuck around much longer the men from the warehouse would come after him. Neal took a glance behind him, to see if the men had spotted him. Thankfully they were looking in the opposite direction.

"Who were you running from anyways?" The man asked, as if he was beyond caring that his suit was ruined.

"What makes you say I was running from someone?" Neal asked, he kept his tone both cool and elusive. He had no idea who this man was, but he knew that whoever he was, wasn't good.

"Well for starters… those two guys over there seem pretty interested in you." Neal looked back and he bit back a frown because damn it, the men had noticed him and they were headed his way.

Neal looked over at the man, trying to discern just what the man's profession was. He didn't have to look hard though, the man had a gun holstered on his side and a badge was clipped to his belt. Add those two features with the bad tie hung around his neck…. Neal's shoulders stiffened a bit, but he hoped the man didn't notice. He was a fed! A no-good dirty rotten fed! Neal couldn't wait to tell Mozzie… The look on his paranoid friend's face would be priceless.

Suddenly the man's phone began to ring. It had been thankfully saved from the spilt coffee and as soon as the man answered it and looked away, Neal escaped from his sight and disappeared down an alley.

"This is Burke." The man said, averting his gaze from the teenager who had ran into him.

"Peter, we found something… something you need to see. Get up here as fast as you can." The man on the other line said. He sounded somewhat excited to be the one who informed Peter about the new update in the case.

Peter bit back a sigh. There was no way that he would be able to go home and change now that there had been an update on the case. He said before hanging up, "Yeah Jones, I'll be there in a few minutes."

Peter finally glanced back to where the kid had been standing only to realize that he wasn't there. He had somehow snuck past and had disappeared. Peter took a quick look around before a frown appeared on his face. Both the boy and the men who were after him were gone.

With the frown still planted on his face, Peter started to make his way to the Federal Building, where both new clothes and an update on the case were waiting for him.

WCWCWC

After many odd looks and long explanations, Peter finally made it to the 21st floor, which housed none other than the White Collar Division of the F.B.I. They had been investigating a jewelry heist, one that had little to no evidence left behind and had all of the marks of a professional job. Peter had drawn the short straw and was forced to buy his team coffee from the shop down the street. Coffee that was now split all over his suit.

"What do you got Jones?" Peter asked, his eyes already peering at the computer screen that was in front of him. He didn't bother explaining his wet clothing; he was sure that by now everyone in the office would know what happened.

"I was looking through the security footage, trying to see if our thief got himself caught on camera." Jones played through the first few minutes of the tape, which showed no one entering or leaving the safe, which the owners had thought to be impenetrable.

After the five minute mark though, someone entered the vault. Jones zoomed in on the figure, until they saw a crisper image of the thief. Peter's eyes widened in shock at the size of the thief. He looked like a teenager. The thief was wearing a ski mask, but that didn't stop Peter from recognizing the teenage thief. He immediately flashed back to a few minutes earlier, when that kid ran into him. He paused the tape, and looked at the thief. Really, really looked at him.

It was the teenager from before, the one who had made the coffee spill everywhere. He was the one who stole the jewels.


	2. Red Flag

A/N: Told you updates would be quick. Thank you to all who reviewed and added this to your favorite/story alert list.  
>Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.<p>

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><p>Chapter Two:<em> It was the teenager from before, the one who had made the coffee spill everywhere. He was the one who stole the jewels.<em>

"Do you know him Boss?" Jones asked, seeing Peter's reaction to the tapes. He knew the tapes contents were shocking; who would have thought that a teenager had this much skill as a thief?

Peter nodded and said "Yeah, he made me drop all of the coffee."

Before Jones could as what his boss meant, Peter had grabbed his jacket and walked hurriedly out of the building. Jones watched him go, a confused look on his face. A colleague of his, Diana walked past. She noticed his expression and the abandoned office he was sitting in, and asked, "Where's Peter?"

Jones looked at her with a half confused and half filled with content smile and said, "I don't know. He was here a minute ago, but he left. I think he might have found a break in the case."

Diana smiled and walked back to her desk, knowing how her boss could get with a new case like this one.

WCWCWC

Neal circled around the block a couple of times before entering an apartment building, one that stuck out somewhat considering the neighborhood. After losing the men from the warehouse and the fed he ran into, Neal took the subway to the Bronx. It was a risky move, but it was the only thing he could afford.

He walked into the building and immediately went to the eight floor. The large brown backpack was still on his back, the precious gems weighing him down.

Neal opened the first door on the left and immediately plopped down on the couch.

"Yeah, sure Neal, come right in. Don't even bother knocking. It's not like I thought you were the cops or anything." Mozzie's voice floated through from the kitchen.

Neal only smiled and said, "The cops don't even know we're here Moz. We're fine."

Mozzie huffed in reply, but he knew that Neal couldn't hear him. What Neal was doing was risky. More risky than anything they had ever pulled before. Or maybe that was just his paranoia talking… He wasn't sure.

But what he was sure of was this; if this continued to happen, Neal would get hurt. It wasn't the same penalty if he got caught picking someone's pocket. If Neal got caught, he would most likely be tortured… or worse, killed.

Mozzie shuddered at the thought and continued to absentmindedly pour hot water into a kettle. He turned just in time to watch Neal walk into the kitchen, brown backpack in hand.

"How did it go?" Mozzie asks, changing the subject. Neal had been tasked with replacing the gems he stole with forgeries, after learning what the profits were going to be used for.

"I got spotted when I was leaving, but besides that I managed to get away clean." Neal said as he emptied out his brown backpack. The jewelry came spilling out and Mozzie couldn't help but reach out to touch them.

The joy Mozzie felt at the touch of the smooth yet shiny edges of the various pieces of jewelry was short-lived though. He had to bite back a frown at the aforementioned tale of being spotted. "Are you sure you didn't get followed down here?"

Neal almost rolled his eyes. Sometimes Mozzie could be… a bit overwhelming. Especially in the paranoia department. He said, "I'm sure Moz. I handled it."

Mozzie gave him a discerning look, but Neal only smiled. He had mischief in his eyes, as he continued to tell his friend about his fateful encounter with the fed.

WCWCWC

After finally figuring out who had stolen the jewels, Peter had rushed home with numerous surveillance tapes in his hand. He was going to compare the footage from heist with the footage from outside the Bureau.

No matter how many times he went over the footage from outside the Bureau though, he seemed to get lost. He kept on watching the boy, as he ran through the ever-growing crowd on the sidewalk. Peter watched as he rammed into the Peter on the screen, sending the coffees flying.

The boy had his back to the camera, but Peter would be able to recognize him in a line-up. His sparkling blue eyes and his curly dark brown hair were unforgettable. The way the boy was acting seemed rather odd, and yet it seemed natural at the same time.

Peter frowned. He had more questions than answers.

"So what's the working theory this time?" El asked as she walked into the room. Whenever Peter got stuck on a case, he would zone out like crazy, focusing solely on the case and nothing else. It made it hard for El to make conversation, but she found a way to break her husband's focus. She always did.

Peter looked up at her from the dining room table and said, "It's just a hunch hon. it's less than that actually."

El sat down next to him and said, "I'm sure you'll figure it out soon. You always do."

Peter smiled and asked, "Want to take a look?"

El's smile widened as Peter handed her the case file. He said, "A couple of pieces of jewelry were stolen from a high end store over on Fifth Avenue… I think it was numbered 653 or something…"

"Someone stole from Cartiers? Wow, it must have done a number on their reputation. They're rumored to have excellent security." El said as she flipped through the case file. It was a thin file, so El didn't take that much time reading it.

"The only proof we have is the security footage, and it isn't in the greatest quality." Peter said as he showed El the footage of the heist. He continued, "I uh… 'ran into' someone suspicious earlier, but he got away."

'_Well that explains the coffee stains all over his suit._' El mused as she fought to keep a smile from appearing on her face. She could see the sheepish grin peaking through Peter's face.

"How suspicious was he?" She asked, getting back to business. She wanted to know more about the elusive thief that had managed to break into a store that everyone had presumed to be impenetrable.

Peter said, "Suspicious enough to send up red flags."

"And he still got away? He must be good then." She said, a mischievous smile gracing her features.

"But not good enough to be able to run forever. I'll catch him El." Peter said, his whole body oozing determination. He knew that sooner or later the kid would get tired of running. Tired of hiding from everyone. When that day came, Peter would be there to catch him. He would catch the thief. It was only a matter of time.


	3. Normal Teenager?

A/N: Okay so this is the last chapter I have written. That means it might be a while before I can update again... Maybe later on in the week? I don't know. Sorry it took so long to put up, I had to put the finishing touches on the ending. Hope you like it!  
>Disclaimer: I own nothing.<p>

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><p>Chapter Three: "YOU DID WHAT!" Mozzie cried, his eyes wide with shock. Neal had just told him what happened at the Federal plaza and Mozzie was not happy about it.<p>

"Relax Moz, he didn't see the jewelry." Neal said as he tried to reassure his paranoid friend. It was a purely accidental meeting. One that made things interesting. Very interesting.

"He could have assembled over 1,000 g-men in less than an hour!"

"I think your overreacting a bit Moz." Neal said as he started to pack the beautiful jewelry into the brown backpack.

Before Mozzie could respond, a ringing noise pierced the air. It was the home phone. Neal and Mozzie looked at each other, and then turned their wary gaze on the still ringing phone. They had been staying in the apartment for less than a week, while the real owners were out visiting family in Florida. No one in the neighborhood had noticed the two teenagers who were breaking and entering every day. They probably assumed they were house sitting.

They let the phone go into voicemail. The electronic male voice echoed throughout the room as it welcomed the caller into the voice mail.

"Hey, I know you're out visiting family right now but… There's something important we need to talk about. Just call me back when you get home." It was a male's voice. His tone was full of regret and remorse. He sounded like a wayward lover, begging to be let back in. Or maybe it was the other way around, and the man was trying to convince her to stay. Who knew?

Neal and Mozzie both breathed a sigh of relief as the voicemail clicked off.

Mozzie turned to Neal and said, "That was a close call. Maybe we should move to a safer place. One that doesn't have bed bugs, or mice for that matter."

Neal frowned and said, "Moving the jewels is risky, but if you think we're not safe here… I'm in."

Mozzie nodded and said, "I'd have to set up a few things, but other than that I'm all ready."

"How long will it take to clean up?" Neal asked. Mozzie was somewhat of an expert at destroying evidence.

"About two hours or so. Why?"

Neal just smiled and said, "There's somewhere I need to be."

WCWCWC

After enjoying a nice dinner with El, Peter took Satchmo out for a walk around his neighborhood. It helped him think about things, like the 16 year old who bumped into him.

Peter found it more than odd that a 16 year old would be able to pull off a caper like that. He wasn't proud of what happened, if anything, Peter was disappointed. Disappointed that the youth of today would go for a life of crime instead of leading a life of honesty. Things hadn't been easy in his childhood, but he was able to pull through it and make an honest living.

Sighing, he turned around and led Satchmo back to the house. When he got there, he saw Elizabeth standing in the doorway. She held out his cell phone and said, "It's Diana."

Peter handed her Satchmo's leash and took the phone out of her hands. He put the phone up to his ear and said, "Hey Diana. What's up?"

Peter's eyes widened as Diana spoke. Those four words she said made Peter's heartbeat start to increase. This was it. This was the moment he knew was coming.

"We found him Boss."

WCWCWC

Neal had been walking for about twenty minutes when he finally made it to his destination. He hopped the fence and continued walking.

The park had been closed for a few months now; the city had deemed it unsalvageable after what happened. The play structures were unsafe and perilous for the children who played here.

Neal passed the run-down playground with a ghost of a smile on his face. He was remembering the playground when it was in his prime, which just so happened to be when he was a kid. He had gone to the exact same playground when he was about six or seven years old. Times were simpler then… more safe.

"You're late." A voice called out, waking Neal from his thoughts of the past.

"Well I had a few errands to run. They took longer than I thought they would." Neal said with a shrug. He watched the African American man come out of the shadows. He was wearing a black overcoat, one that made blending into the darkness a bit easier, and a black fedora.

"Do these errands include stealing 5.4 million dollars worth of jewelry from Cartiers?" The man asked, his face turning serious.

"You knew about that?" Neal said, keeping his tone sly and neutral.

"Everyone knows about it Neal. Even the Feds know about it. Word on the street is that they have a tape of you breaking in there." The man said, his face turning grim. It was clear to both of them what this new development meant. It meant that the feds were close to catching him. The never been caught Neal Caffrey.

Neal bit his lip, clearly troubled. He had no idea that the feds would get this close to him in such a little amount of time. He had thought it would be an easy job… Neal closed his eyes and mentally berated himself for thinking such a foolish thought. Of course it wasn't going to be easy! How stupid could he be?

Neal's eyes opened instantly at the thought of Mozzie. Mozzie didn't know about the tape. He didn't know about the one thing that could get Neal into big trouble with the Feds. Bigger than anything they had ever imagined.

Moz wasn't going to be happy about it, but if Neal was going to get away from this clean, he was going to need all the help he could get. Neal turned to the man and said, "Thanks for the information Hale. It helps a lot."

Hale just nodded and said, "It's alright Neal. Just keep me informed of when your next job is. I could be help you know…"

Hale disappeared into the shadows just as Neal pulled out his phone. He hit speed dial number 2 and put it up to his ear. Instantly he heard a very electronic female voice, sadly informing him that the phone he was trying to reach was out of service.

Neal hung up and gave the phone a confused glance. He was sure that this was Mozzie's most current number. He checked the next one, and once again he was greeted by the female voice. Neal frowned and tried the next number. His frown deepened as every phone number he tried turned out to be dead.

He cursed aloud and set off towards the apartment they were in. With any luck, Mozzie would still be there, cleaning every surface of the room. He had no idea why Mozzie wasn't answering any of his phones, but it was worrying him to no end. What if something happened to him? What if the feds had found him with the jewelry? If Hale was right –and he almost always was- then the feds were close to finding him. Maybe even close enough to find the apartment he was staying at.

Neal quickened his pace and prayed to god that the feds weren't busting down the door right now. That everything that Hale said was a false alarm.

He knew the chances of Hale lying to him were slim to none, but that didn't stop him from hoping. Hoping that things would all blow over and he would be able to go back to his normal lifestyle.

What was his normal lifestyle anyways? Neal certainly didn't lead a life a normal teenager would. He doubted that a teenager would be able to pull off the capers that he did.

By the time Neal made it to the apartment, ten minutes had passed. He went up the back staircase, knowing that it was the quickest way to his room.

After going up quite a few number of stairs, Neal opened the door leading to the hallway a fraction. When he knew that the coast was clear, Neal opened the door fully and walked out onto the hallway.

Neal gave the open door to the apartment a peculiar look, but he kept on walking, mindful of his footsteps. He made sure to stay silent; hoping that whoever was in the apartment wouldn't hear him. Neal reached the door and peered inside.

"It's clear Boss." A female voice said. Upon hearing her, Neal backed away from the door and scrunched up against the wall beside the door.

"Damn." Neal furrowed his eyebrows, deep in thought. He had heard that man's voice before… But where?

"He must have just left… This tea is still hot." She said. Neal breathed out a sigh of relief; Mozzie got out before the feds could come. Neal would have hated for his friend to take the blame for him.

"If he was here, he's good at covering his tracks. You can practically smell the bleach." Neal's eyes widened in shock as he finally remembered who the voice belonged to. It belonged to the Fed!

Neal cursed mentally and began walking silently to the door he just came out of. He couldn't believe that the fed he had mowed down earlier that day was working his case. That was probably what got the other feds on his trail. The main fed –the one that Neal ran into- probably recognized him from the tape they had of the heist.

Neal had messed up… big time. He honestly didn't see a way to get out clean. Mozzie had warned him about the job, said that Neal was practically courting danger. But as always, Neal didn't listen. He had to figure out on his own that this was a bad idea.

A large crash awakened Neal from his thoughts. He had unknowingly bumped into an out of place pedestal. A rather cheap looking vase shattered before his eyes. Neal winced, knowing that the mistake he made would be more than hurtful to his reputation. He could see it now, 'Neal Caffrey: ousted by a falling vase."

Before he could get away from the mess he had made, he heard the two feds come out of the room, guns in hand. He put his hands up slowly, knowing that running would do him no good.

Neal turned to face the two feds, and bit back a sigh. He was caught. The man fed took a few tentative steps toward him, handcuffs ready.

He placed the handcuffs around Neal's wrists and said the three words that Neal dreaded most.

"You're under arrest."


	4. Deal

A/N: I was going to blend this chapter in with chapter five, but I decided to cut it into two pieces. Hope you guys enjoy. Also... I don't know if any of you guys noticed, but there is a poll on my profile that needs answering. Do you want Kate in this or not? I know that not a lot of people like her.. so that's why I'm asking. I have two plot branches that this could go through, one with Kate, and one without. It's up to you, so answer the poll please! or just comment in a review.  
>Disclaimer: not mine. never will.<p>

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><p>Chapter Four: <em>He placed the handcuffs around Neal's wrists and said the three words that Neal dreaded most. "You're under arrest."<em>

(The next morning…)

The sun was shining, birds were chirping and the F.B.I's finest were hard at work. Three of those agents had stayed the night, taking turns watching the teen who had stolen 5.4 million dollars worth of jewelry from one of the most secured buildings in New York.

Diana and Jones stood in the observation room, watching over the suspect who sat quietly in the room next to them.

The teenager had said nothing when Diana and Peter brought him in and was quiet even in interrogation. He seemed to be patiently waiting for something to happen.

The two federal agents were trying to get into their teenage suspect's head. Trying to figure out what made him tick. Mostly though, they wondered how he managed to steal so much without getting caught.

They ran a sketch that Peter had compiled earlier and nothing turned up. They checked the recent missing person database and once again, nothing popped up. It was as if he just appeared one day out of the blue and decided to stick around. They only found him because of an anonymous tip they got.

Diana was nursing her fifth cup of coffee when randomly Jones said, "Steve Tabernacle."

She stopped mid-sip of her coffee to ask, "Who's Steve Tabernacle?"

"I was just thinking of names that would fit him." Jones said, a sheepish look on his face.

"You can't be serious…" Diana said, a look of mirth shining in her dark eyes.

"Well we have to call him something." Jones said, very matter of fact.

"So your choice is to call him Steve Tabernacle?" She asked, a grin now on her face.

Jones shrugged, as if to say 'if the shoe fits…'

Diana shook her head incredulously and glanced over at the kid. Jones was right though. They had to I.D the kid before doing anything else. They couldn't just call him John Doe and ship him off to the nearest juvenile detention center.

After looking thoroughly at the kid, Diana turned to Jones and said, "If we're going to name him anything, it's going to be Nick Halden, not Steve Tabernacle."

Jones seemed to mull it over in his head for a few seconds before nodding and chuckling to himself.

The two agents stopped joking around just in time to watch as Peter entered the interrogation room.

* * *

><p>Neal sat patiently in the room, evasive mask in place. He'd be damned if he slipped up just because of some fed.<p>

The feds had let him sit in the room the entire night, without any contact whatsoever. Not that Neal minded that much. He had gone longer periods of time without contact.

Finally the door opened. Without even glancing up, Neal knew that it was the Agent in Charge.

Neal raised his still handcuffed wrists and said, "Are these really necessary Agent?"

The agent sat down across from Neal and said, "Special Agent."

When Neal gave him a peculiar look, he continued by saying, "It's Special Agent Peter Burke."

Agent Burke placed a blue case file on the table and said, "I'm afraid so. You see, I know for a fact that as soon as I turn my back on you, you'll run."

"Then you don't know me very well Peter…"Neal asked with a smirk on his face. Neal knew that what the agent was explaining could have been a very likely outcome, but sitting in an interrogation room was better than being on the run. It gave Neal some time to think about his options, now that the feds were quite literally breathing down his neck.

"How do you figure that?" Peter asked.

Neal leaned closer to the agent who was sitting across from him and said, "I could have escaped the minute you left me alone."

It was true. Neal had hid a small lock pick in the inside of his belt for occasions like this. He had put it in no less than three weeks ago, before all of this had happened.

Peter opened the case file and pulled out three pictures of empty jewelry cases. He searched the boy's face for any sort of reaction. He said, "3 of the most expensive pieces of jewelry were stolen a couple of days ago. You wouldn't know something about that, would you?"

The boy eyed him with a carefully neutral gaze and said, "No. I don't."

Peter looked into his cerulean blue eyes, trying to see if the kid was telling the truth or not. And damn, he was good. He showed absolutely no signs of knowing what happened, no signs of lying. It was as if Peter had arrested the wrong kid.

But Peter hadn't made a mistake. He could tell by the smirk on the boy's face that he did it. He was responsible for the theft that shocked the media.

Before Peter could ask any more questions, a man who could be described as a shark in a suit walked in. He had an air of over confidence that made Peter want to gag. Or punch him in the face. Whichever fit better.

"I believe it is against my client's civil rights to talk to him without me present, agent." The man said, an arrogant look in his eyes.

The man gave Peter a business card and said, "If you don't mind I'll be taking my client with me when I leave."

Peter glanced at the business card. It was a rather simple one actually. It said in a fancy font, Landon Carter: defense attorney. Below it, there was a telephone number and an address.

"We have plenty of things to hold him on Mr. Carter." he said. This lawyer was starting to get on his nerves.

"Your evidence is circumstantial at best Agent. Now either charge my client or we're leaving."

Peter glanced at the boy who was sitting across from him. He was glaring at the lawyer, as if he didn't want him here. Peter found that odd, considering any other criminal would be happy to leave the F.B.I without handcuffs. But then again, the kid wasn't like any other criminal.

The boy tried to speak, but his lawyer shushed him. Landon looked at the kid and said, "Be quiet Neal. I can handle this."

Landon turned back to Peter and said, "Now Agent… the handcuffs?"

Peter bit back a sigh and took the key off of the set he always had on him. Before he could unlock the cuffs, the newly named boy spoke.

He said, "I got it Landon." And simply pulled off the cuffs as if they were some sort of bracelet.

Peter sat there, dumbstruck, as Neal and his lawyer strolled out of the interrogation room. The kid had been right; he could have escaped the minute they left him alone.

…But then… Why didn't he escape? Why did he spend the remainder of the night and most of the morning sitting in an interrogation room? It sure as hell wasn't comfortable… or fitting for that matter.

"Boss…" Diana calls out, trying to get Peter's attention. When Peter looks up she continues by saying, "Jones and I have been sitting on him for the past three hours."

Peter raises an eyebrow, as if to ask 'so what?'

"He never asked for a phone call."

Diana's words make something click in Peter's head, because instantly he jumped up and ran towards the bull pen.

But it was too late. They were gone.

WCWCWC

Neal had tried to run as soon as Landon had got him out of the Bureau, but the lawyer had other plans.

"Come on Caffrey, I didn't get you out of that mess just so you could run the minute you were free." Landon said, as he forcefully guided Neal into a black SUV with tinted windows.

Neal glared at Landon and said nothing. He knew that there was nothing he could do to escape so he sat tight and waited for the right moment to disappear.

A few minutes into their drive though, Neal spoke. He asked, "Where are you taking me?"

They had been driving through the nicer part of New York, a part that Neal had never really known well enough to call home. He had grown up in one of the seedier neighborhoods in New York, and he always had to deal with other kids who almost always bragged about how much they got for Christmas.

Landon just glanced back at Neal and smirked. Neal realized that Landon wasn't going to tell him where they were going and bit back a sigh. He hated all of these secret meetings. Why couldn't they just come up to him and talk to him like a normal person? There was no need for abducting him. If they wanted to strike a deal with him, they would have to go through the same channels as everyone else. There was no possible way that Landon's boss was great enough to be an exception to the rules of the criminal world.

Landon turned left and pulled into the driveway of a brick building, that looked like it recently went through some remodeling.

Neal once again found himself being guided into the fancy looking building. He could see the gun hidden in the back of Landon's pants, so he didn't dare try anything that would get him hurt. Neal fought the wave of nausea that threatened to come forward. He never liked guns. Never have and never will.

Landon steered him into the elevator and hit the button that was labeled four.

There were three security guards waiting for them when they reached the fourth floor. Landon pulled out an I.D. card and when they gave Neal a peculiar glance, Landon said, "He's with me."

The guards nodded and went back to their posts. Landon knocked on the first closed door he found and waited until a muffled, "Come in." was heard. He opened the door and motioned for Neal to enter.

Just by looking around the room, Neal could tell that whoever's room this was rich. It was decorated with expensive furniture and there were even some priceless paintings mounted on the wall.

The man who was sitting at the ancient tiger oak desk looked up when they entered the room. He had short brown hair and was wearing what Neal assumed to be a tailored suit.

"I see you brought a guest Landon. I didn't know that it was bring your kid to work day." The man said. His gray blue eyes were cold even when he was making a joke.

Landon stiffened for a fraction of a second before responding. He said, "Oh, no Mr. Adler, he's not my kid."

The man called Adler gave Landon a look that asked, '_Then who is he?_'

Landon glanced at Neal and said, "You said that you wanted to meet the man who managed to break into Cartiers… Well here he is."

Adler stood and motioned for Landon to follow him out of the room. Once they were gone, Neal allowed himself to smirk a little. Landon was getting chewed out by his boss after all. Neal had a right to laugh at him.

He would have taken the opportunity to escape, but the only exit he saw was the door Adler and Landon just went out. He could have tried the windows, but Neal didn't particularly want to accidentally plummet to his death if he slipped.

Instead Neal decided to check the room out. He walked over to where the priceless paintings were and his eyes widened as he recognized each and every painting. He would have recognized this particular one anywhere. It was Raphael's St. George and the Dragon.

It had been one of his favorites since before he can remember. The painting wasn't was of Raphael's most famous pieces, but it still captured the hearts of many. Especially Neal's. The painting reminded him of a time when he didn't have to constantly worry about the feds busting down his door.

The sound of the door opening grabbed Neal's attention. He continued to gaze at the paintings as Adler walked towards him.

"See anything you like?" He asked, an icy gleam in his eyes.

"What do you want with me Adler?" Neal asked, ignoring Adler's question. He really didn't want to associate with this man. He seemed cold and distant; a combination that never bode well with business decisions. Neal had a feeling that if he tried to back out, the man would either kill him or find some other way to off him without getting his hands dirty. And Adler definitely seemed like the kind of guy who would do that.

"I want to make a deal."


	5. Paranoid

A/N: Meant to get this up earlier.. Loads of homework and tests to study for. Either way, I hope you like it. Happy Holidays!  
>Disclaimer: Unless Santa is willing to give me the rights to white collar I own nothing.<p>

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><p>Chapter five: <em>"I want to make a deal."<em>

Neal almost sputtered. He couldn't believe that Adler wanted to make a deal with him. With him! A sixteen year old that barely managed to get away clean from one of his jobs. Either Adler saw something in him, or he was playing him. Neal assumed it was the latter.

He turned to face Adler and said, "You're looking in the wrong place if you want the jewels. I might have stolen them, but I don't have them anymore."

Adler smirked and said, "You might not have them with you right now, but I know for a fact that you are the one responsible for those immaculate forgeries in Wilkes' warehouse."

Neal kept quiet, stunned. How did this man know all of this? He didn't seem like the kind of guy Wilkes would associate with. Then again… Wilkes wasn't really the kind of guy that anyone would want to associate with.

"You want a cut of the profits, don't you?" Neal asked. It was the only reasonable explanation for the impromptu meeting. It was the only explanation for any of this actually.

"I have enough money to last me a lifetime."Adler said gazing at the various paintings he had collected over the years.

"If you're not in it for the money, what are you in for? What do you have to offer me?" Neal asked, annoyance and confusion slipping into his tone. He had other things to do than to make a deal with a man like Adler. Things like finding Mozzie and the jewelry.

"I give you protection, from both the feds and Wilkes, and you help me find something." Adler replied, as he placed his hands in his pockets.

"Find what exactly?" Neal asked, his curiosity piqued. There was not a lot that a wealthy man couldn't have. And Adler was definitely a wealthy man. Neal could tell that Adler wanted whatever it was badly. There was a certain gleam in his gray blue eyes. A gleam that Neal had seen before in his own eyes, whenever he saw something that grabbed his interest.

"A rare antique… One that I've had my eye on for a while." Adler said, purposely being vague about his wishes. Adler knew that if he told the kid about the item of his desires, Neal would most likely go after it himself and try to usurp the profits. With something as urgent as this, no one could be trusted. Not even a kid.

"Why are you helping me?" Neal asked, out of the blue. He wanted to know why Adler helped him before deciding on whether or not to accept Adler's offer. What Adler was doing… was confusing. A man in his position… a man with enough power and money to persuade anyone, was willing to help Neal, a kid who was sneakier and smarter than the average thief.

Neal would have thought that Adler would have called the cops when Landon brought him in, not help him hide from them. There was something about Adler that made the hair on Neal's arm stand up. Neal was by no means afraid of Adler, there was just something… Something that made him feel uneasy.

"It's rather simple actually." Adler said, a conniving smirk on his face. "If you want a job done right, you get a professional to do it for you. I have the information necessary, and you have the perfect skill set needed to get the job done."

Neal hummed in response, mulling over his options in his head. He could either A): accept Adler's offer and help him find whatever he was looking for, or B): decline his offer and try to find a way out of the mess he created. Option A was the most promising, but it felt too easy. As if it was the kid's way out. Option B was troubling, but it wasn't anything Neal couldn't handle on his own.

A loud buzzing noise interrupted Neal's thoughts. He looked up and his eyes immediately went in the direction of the noise, which was by the tiger oak desk. It was Adler's cell phone. It was vibrating with such intensity, it practically begged for someone to answer the call that was coming through.

Neal gave Adler a look and asked, "Aren't you going to get that?"

Adler said nothing as he walked over to his desk. He took one look at the caller I.D and his expression soured. It looked like all of the color drained out of his face. He looked over at Neal with a dire look on his face and said forcefully, "You need to hide."

"What?" Neal asked, confused.

"If you want to live, you'll do as I say." Adler said, his tone filled with authority and power. "Now hide!"

Neal rushed to the only hiding spot he could think of, underneath Adler's desk. Just as he ducked his head underneath it, he heard the tell tale noise of a door being kicked in. He heard footsteps and swallowed nervously when the footsteps stopped right beside the desk.

"Didn't your mother tell you that it's impolite to barge in on people?" He hears Adler ask. Neal wonders just who could have made Adler this mad… Well at least it seemed like he was mad.

"Yeah, well my way is more fun." Neal froze as he recognized the voice. It was Ryan Wilkes. The man who Neal had stolen the jewels for. And had them replaced with forgeries.

Neal heard Adler snort and said, "Is there anything you needed Ryan? Or did you just want to destroy my office?"

There was a moment of pure silence before Wilkes spoke again. He was faced away from the desk, Neal was sure of that. Wilkes said, "Well you see… I've encountered a small problem."

Neal heard the tell tale sound of a gun's safety being clicked off. "You knew the jewels were fake. And instead of telling me, you let me make a fool out of myself when I tried to exchange them."

If Adler was nervous about having a gun in his face, he didn't project it in his voice. He said rather calmly, "You should always check your merchandise before selling it Wilkes. You, of all people should know that, seeing as how you like to call yourself an entrepreneur."

"Don't get smart with me Adler. The next time you pull something like this… I swear it won't be pretty." Wilkes said as he moved closer to Adler, gun still in hand.

After a few tense minutes, Wilkes left the room, his footsteps getting quieter as he went. Neal heard Adler sigh and say, "You can come out now Neal. The coast is clear."

Neal crawled out from underneath the desk and started to dust himself off. He said, "You say you can protect me, and yet you can't even protect yourself. How am I supposed to believe anything that comes out of your mouth now?"

Now that Wilkes had shown up, at Adler's place no less, the safety Neal had felt was slowly oozing out of him. How was he supposed to safe in the hands of a man who couldn't even keep himself safe?

Adler had a frustrated look in his eyes, seemingly berating himself for screwing up like this. He said in a low tone, "I underestimated him. It won't happen again Neal, I assure you."

"We'll see about that." Neal said, his mind was finally made up. "Thanks for the offer Adler, but I think I can handle what's coming."

And with that, Neal left. One of the many guards soon knocked on the door. Adler waved him in and the guard asked tentatively, "Sir… Should we go after the kid?"

Adler shook his head and said, "No. Let him leave. He'll soon see the error of his ways. And when that day comes, I will make sure that he regrets his decision."

The guard swallowed nervously but said nothing. He left the room, uneasiness filling his head. He had no idea what his boss meant, but he was glad that he wasn't the kid who had the balls to walk out on Adler.

WCWCWC

Elizabeth Burke walked the streets of New York, an empty coffee cup in her hands. She was just coming back from her lunch break, one that was supposed to be shared with her husband. Most days the two would eat lunch together, but now that Peter had a new case… Well Elizabeth was used to eating alone.

She turned on to the street where Burke Premiere Events lay and was surprised to see a teenager sleeping on the front steps.

The sleeping teenager had wavy black hair that was mussed perfectly. Elizabeth resisted the temptation to ruffle the boy's hair. He was the picture of innocence. He couldn't be any older than 16, and yet he had the innocence of a child when he slept. She didn't want to wake him up, but she knew she had to. There was no way that she was letting a boy sleep on her front step in this weather. While the weather was still brisk, El knew that it would only get colder from here on out.

Elizabeth placed a calm hand on the teenager's shoulders and gently shook him awake.

At once the boy stirred. His eyelids fluttered open to reveal bright blue eyes; eyes that widened in surprise at the woman crouching in front of him. He tried to jump back, but Elizabeth stopped him.

She said, "It's alright. I'm not here to hurt you."

The boy calmed down considerably after that. He took a few deep breaths before asking, "What happened?"

"You fell asleep on my doorstep, that's what happened." Elizabeth said with a lighthearted chuckle. The boy looked so embarrassed, so out of place that Elizabeth couldn't help but stare. After all it wasn't everyday that she found a kid sleeping on her doorstep.

The boy stayed quiet, clearly still trying to think about anything but what happened. Elizabeth smiled and said comfortingly, "It's alright you know. People have fallen asleep in weirder places than doorsteps."

A smile appeared on the boy's face, albeit a small one. Elizabeth took a few steps back, and watched as the boy stood. He took a quick look around the street before settling his gaze back onto Elizabeth.

The boy placed his hands into his pockets and said, "Thank you… for uh… waking me up."

Elizabeth smiled and said, "Not a problem."

He stepped off the doorstep and was a few steps away when Elizabeth called out. She asked, "Where are you headed?"

He stopped short and turned around. He had an unsure smile on his face, as if he was wondering whether or not to tell Elizabeth about himself. Finally he said, "Nowhere in particular really. I'm supposed to meet up with a friend later."

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows, wary of the teen's answer. Something about his statement was wrong, and yet it was such a normal answer. She asked, "Are you sure about that?"

"Yeah, why do you ask?" The teen answered. There was something familiar about him, Elizabeth was sure of that fact. She didn't know where she had seen him before. It definitely wasn't on the streets, or at one of the many events that she planned.

"I don't know… It just seems like you're in trouble." Elizabeth said as she placed her hands in her jacket pockets. There was an air of nervousness around the boy, almost as if he was worried about what was going to happen next.

"I assure you I'm not in any trouble. I'm just…" The boy paused, seemingly looking for the right word to say that wouldn't offend the woman standing in front of him.

"Paranoid?" Elizabeth supplied, a grin growing on her face.

The boy smiled, this time a genuine smile. He nodded and said, "Something like that."

"I hear tea is supposed to help with nerves."

"Oh really?" He asked, his bright blue eyes twinkling with mischief and mysteriousness.

"And I just so happen to have an enormous stock of tea at my house. Would you like to join me?" Elizabeth didn't know why she asked him to go have tea with her, but it seemed like the right thing to do. She highly doubted that he wasn't in trouble. It was written all over the kid's face. There was something going on. And Elizabeth was going to find out what.

The boy seemed to bite back a sigh before saying, "Sure, why not?"

Elizabeth smiled and took out her hand. She said, "I'm Elizabeth. What's your name?"

The boy took her hand and said, "Neal. I'm Neal Caffrey."


	6. Unexpected Visitor

A/N: Thank you for all of the reviews! I love every single one of you. :)

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><p>Chapter six:<em> The boy took her hand and said, "Neal. I'm Neal Caffrey."<em>

(A few hours later)

Peter drove home frustrated. Their prime suspect for the case just walked out of the interrogation room, as if he was simply waiting for a ride home.

Neal was most definitely the oddest kid Peter has ever met. Sure he was smug and childish at times, but what kids weren't these days? Peter has never really interrogated a kid before, but he was sure that they wouldn't act like Neal did. Someone had coached the kid, Peter was certain of it. Someone was pulling Neal's strings, and Peter was going to find out whom, if it was the last thing he did.

Peter pulled up to his driveway, finally glad to be home. He couldn't wait to have a nice relaxing dinner with his wife.

He walked into his house and called out, "Honey I'm home."

He could already smell the dinner cooking. Judging by the smell that was wafting in from the kitchen, Peter could tell that it was one of his favorite dishes. What confused him though was the fact that he could hear voices coming from the kitchen. As in more than one voice. He knew that they weren't expecting company, nor was any of Elizabeth's friends over.

He frowned and walked further into the room, saying, "El?"

Elizabeth finally came out of the kitchen, a huge smile on her face. She noticed her husband's confused look, but gave no clarification. She said, "Before you ask Peter, everything is fine."

"Then who's-"

A teenager who had walked right into the dining room, one that looked vaguely familiar, interrupted Peter. He said, "Hey Elizabeth, where do you want the…."

The boy stopped talking as soon as he noticed the man in the room. He very nearly dropped the stacks of plates he was carrying. His face turned pale, and Peter wasn't sure if the kid was going to faint or not.

Suddenly realization struck him. This kid… It was Neal!

"You…" Peter said, giving Neal a very intimidating look. He couldn't believe that of all the places he could have found him, Neal would be in his house, helping his wife set up dinner.

Elizabeth stepped in front of Neal and put her hand on Peter's shoulder. She said, "Peter, everything's alright. I brought him here."

"You what?" Peter asked, confused. What could have possibly made his wife harbor a criminal?

Elizabeth seemed to bite back a sigh and she turned to Neal for a minute. She said, "The plates go on the table Neal. I have to talk to Peter in private for a moment, but I'll be right back and you can continue telling me your story."

El steered Peter through the kitchen door, not waiting for Peter's answer. She had to explain to him that Neal was not here to hurt her, or him. He was here because she invited him over, because she knew that something was wrong with him. She didn't know if it was his family, or if someone was after him, but she knew that something was going on. She also knew that she had to help him.

El had a sinking feeling that no one else in the world would mind if he had disappeared from sight. And judging by the few hours that she had spent with him was a mistake. He was a wonderful boy, so polite and charming. She knew that Peter probably had the direct opposite opinion, but she had ways to change that.

"Why is he here El?" Peter asked, hands on his hips. El bit back a frown; she was Agent Burke now. Not that she minded of course, but it would be a little more difficult to convince "Agent Burke" that Neal was a good kid.

"He's got nowhere else to go Peter. Do you really expect me to just turn my back on him?"

"He's the prime suspect in my case El. Do you know what would happen if Hughes found out about this?" Peter loved his wife to death, but he couldn't believe this. She was aiding and abetting a criminal. Granted it was a teenage criminal who as far as Peter knew was homeless…

"He's just a kid Peter. Whatever he's done, whatever crimes you think he's done, don't matter. He deserves a chance." El says, gorgeous blue eyes bright with conviction.

Peter sighs exasperatedly, accepting defeat. He could never win in an argument with Elizabeth. Ever. He says, "Okay okay… I'll give him a chance."

El smiles and kisses Peter lightly on the cheek. She leaves the kitchen, and Peter follows soon after.

"Sorry about that Neal, I didn't mean to interrupt your story." El says, as she takes her seat at the table.

"It's alright, I'm sure we can pick up where we left off." Neal says. Now that Agent Burke was here, he would have to make a few changes to his story, but it wouldn't do any harm.

* * *

><p>"…And when I got there, there was no one home. Everything was gone, even the furniture. It was as if no one had even lived there in the first place." Neal pauses, his eyes on his now empty plate. He had no idea why he was retelling this story… The one that made him run away in the first place. But one thing led to another and soon he was talking about his childhood. The one he's been trying to forget.<p>

Peter is the one to break the silence that had came after Neal's last statement. He had been watching Neal throughout the dinner, trying to tell if this was one of his cons or not. But after watching Neal retell this story… He was convinced that it was 100% true.

"What did you end up doing?" He asks.

Neal looks up with melancholic blue eyes and says, "I grabbed what few things they left for me and ran."

A few more minutes of silence passed. Neal never meant for this dinner to become a pity party. He never wanted to be pitied. Not like this. The pity left a sour taste in his mouth, and Neal wanted it gone.

"Well, now that story time is over, I think we should start cleaning up." El said, putting on a brave face. What happened to Neal was awful, truly truly awful, but she knew that there was nothing she could to about it now. And it annoyed the heck out of her.

When she brought up the subject of his parents, she had no idea how Neal would react. She obviously didn't expect this…. She didn't expect such a sad story to come from Neal's mouth. Elizabeth didn't know what she expecting, but she knew it wasn't this.

She stood, trying to shift the mood from melancholy to cheerfulness. She said, "Pass me your plates, both of you."

Both Peter and Neal passed their plates along and excused themselves from the table. They both walked into the living room. Peter had a hesitant look in his eyes, as if he was deciding on saying something to the kid who had somehow wormed his way into his life. After what happened only a few moments ago, Peter was sure that Neal had come here for a reason.

Obviously he didn't mean to bump into Peter while trying to run away from whoever it was that was after him, but he did. Of course that led to spending a night in an interrogation room, but even then Peter knew that something was off.

"Neal…" Peter started. He wasn't sure what to say, but he knew he wanted to say something.

Before he could continue, Neal said, "its okay Peter. I don't have to deal with them ever again."

Peter pursed his lips but said nothing. If Neal didn't want to talk to him, that was fine. Peter would corner him later.

…That is, if Neal decided to stick around. Peter knew from experience that if Neal didn't want to be found he was gone, like dust in the wind. He hoped that Neal stuck around, if only for a few more days. It would give him some more time to figure out all of this business regarding the stolen pieces of jewelry.

Peter knew that Neal was involved in his case somehow… but none of the pieces were fitting together like he hoped they would. The only real evidence was the tape, and even when it was cleaned up by the guys down in forensics, it showed absolutely nothing on their suspect. Or at least nothing they already knew.

When Elizabeth came into the living room, Neal turned to her and said, "Thank you for the dinner Elizabeth. It was great."

He made to exit the household, but Elizabeth stopped him. She said, "Neal, it's almost 10:00. Why don't you stay the night?"

"Elizabeth I couldn't possibly impose on you like that." Neal says. He knows he really shouldn't stay, knows that spending another night away from both Mozzie and the jewels is a bad idea, but he's too exhausted to care.

He's lucid enough to politely decline Elizabeth's offer, but he knows that if they let him leave, he'll probably end up falling asleep on the streets…again.

It took all of Neal's power not to flinch when Elizabeth said, "You're practically dead on your feet Neal. There's no way I'm letting you leave like this."

Neal chewed the inside of his cheek, deep in thought. He looks to Peter, hoping that the fed would help him out. Peter just smiled and shook his head slowly. _So much for that option…_

He sighed and said, "I guess I can stay one night."

Elizabeth's smile only grew larger as she said, "I'll go get the guest room ready."

* * *

><p>"Are you sure you want to let him stay the night?" Peter asks, once they are alone in their bedroom.<p>

El gives Peter a look and says, "Of course I want him to stay the night. Would you rather have him out in the streets alone?"

Peter shakes his head lightly and chuckles. "You know I would never want that El."

El just smiles.

WCWCWC

Peter doesn't know why he wakes up at 2:45 in the morning. He gets out of bed, being careful not to wake El. He walks by the guest bedroom, which Neal is supposedly still sleeping in. Peter doesn't know if Neal stayed or not. He assumes the latter, because… well he doesn't really know why. It's just a feeling.

Those feelings are the reason why he gasps in surprise when he walks past the guest bedroom. The door is open just a crack, and Peter can see and hear Neal clearly. He's talking to someone. Peter steps closer to the door, making sure his footsteps are silent.

"What do you mean you don't know where he is?" Judging by Neal's tone, Peter knows that Neal is annoyed. Annoyed at whom though? He knows that he's on the phone with someone; he can see the cell phone by his ear.

"I'm not accusing you of anything Alex!" There's a pause, and Peter is pretty sure that pause is because he doesn't want to wake up the rest of the neighborhood.

He continues in a much quieter voice, "I just want to know where he is."

Peter watches as Neal's face turns from an annoyed expression, to one of concern and worry. His free hand twitches as he says, "Yeah… Just call me if you hear anything."

Neal hangs up the phone and runs a hand through his hair. Peter can tell that something is going on with the teenager. Something that's making Peter worried. He doesn't know what's going on, or what it is about, but that doesn't really matter right now. All that matters is that something is going down. And judging by Neal's one sided conversation, it isn't something to be trifled with.

"Lose someone?" Peter asks as he steps forward into the room, making Neal jump slightly.

Neal says nothing, but his blue eyes remain full of expression. There's something in those eyes, something that makes Peter feel uneasy. It's an emotion that lets Peter know that this is serious business. Serious business indeed.


	7. Obvious

A/N: Short chapter is short. I've also made a decision regarding Kate in the story. Everyone seems to agree that Kate should not appear and that's what I'm going to do.

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><p>Chapter seven: <em>Neal says nothing, but his blue eyes remain full of expression. There's something in those eyes, something that makes Peter feel uneasy. It's an emotion that lets Peter know that this is serious business. Serious business indeed.<em>

There are a few moments of tense silence before Neal speaks. During those tense moments, Peter had Neal follow him downstairs and into the kitchen. Neal assumes it is because Peter doesn't want to wake Elizabeth.

"So you uh… you heard all that?" He asks, a somewhat bashful expression on his face.

"I heard enough."

It takes all Neal has not to wince, because damn it, he hates when he's this obvious. Peter would obviously find out eventually, but Neal didn't want it to be now. Not when he's got a friend missing and men are after him. Calling Alex was a calculated risk, and he was seriously tempted not to (He didn't want to endanger her), but his concern for Mozzie won out.

It had been almost three days since he last heard from Mozzie. Sure, there were times where Mozz would disappear, but never for this long. And if he did disappear, he always left a note. Always.

Add that to the fact that Wilkes' men were still after him… well Neal had a right to be worried.

"Tell me what's going on Neal. I can help you."

Neal looked up at Peter, startled. He had thought that Peter would have told him to leave, not ask him what he could do to help. Before Neal can say anything, Peter continues.

He says, "And don't even bother denying it. I know something is going on."

Neal smiles and says, "I wasn't going to."

Neal knew that denying it would get him nowhere; the Agent had already heard most of his conversation with Alex. Why pretend it never happened?

"So…" Neal says as he sits down at the kitchen table. "What do you want to know?"

Peter looked at him curiously, as if he was contemplating which question to ask. Finally he decided which question to ask first.

"Where did you go after the interrogation? I checked up on that lawyer; he's one of the most expensive defense attorneys in New York. Who, not surprisingly, doesn't do a lot of pro bono work."

Neal smiles thoughtfully and said, "Landon Carter? I didn't even know he was coming. The first time I ever dealt with him in person was in that room. As for where he took me… well he took me to meet with one of his more rich clients. I didn't stick around long enough to get a name."

What he didn't tell Peter was that it actually wasn't the first time he had dealt with Landon. Sure it was the first time the two had met when Landon was a lawyer, but there had been one or two times where Landon had used his connections to the criminal underworld for more… illegal purposes. Purposes that Neal had unfortunately fit into.

So Neal had omitted a few details...so what? It's not like Peter would be able to tell.

Peter nodded, finally understanding. "So that's how you ended up on my wife's doorstep."

Neal hummed noncommittally and said nothing. He appeared to be waiting patiently for Peter's next question.

"What has gotten you so spooked? You haven't slept in days, and all throughout dinner you kept on glancing at the door, ready to escape at a moment's notice." Peter asked.

Neal tried to keep a blank face. He didn't know that Peter would be this observant. Or maybe he was just being too obvious. He assumes it is the latter, and says evasively, "Having dinner with an F.B.I agent and his wife can do that to you."

He couldn't just tell Peter about the jewels. Not without being charged with grand larceny. And Neal did not want to go to jail. Ever.

"Neal…" Peter said, with an exasperated tone. He clearly thought he had an all access pass to all of the answers. Neal would never be as dumb as to allow that. Some things aren't meant to be shared. Especially with an F.B.I agent, who was more than willing to arrest him.

But after a few minutes of dealing with Peter's 'Agent in Charge' glare, Neal caved. He put his hands up in a calming motion and said, "Okay, okay! But everything stays off the record. I mean it."

Peter frowned before nodding his ascent. He obviously didn't like where this way going, but this was the only way he was going to get answers. Answers he desperately needed.

Neal sighed. He really didn't want to tell Peter about Wilkes, but he had to if he wanted to get out of this conversation. He closes his eyes for a brief moment before saying, "I may or may not have someone after me."

"What?" Peter asks, shock evident.

Neal blanches and says, "I ran into some trouble okay? People assumed that I was a part of the jewelry heist and well… they wanted in. Getting arrested didn't exactly help my case either."

Peter pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to stop the headache that was coming. Of course people would be after Neal because of what he did. Before the guilt could settle in though, Peter remembered something.

"So that's who you were running from that day." Peter said with an understanding tone. He had only known Neal for about three (a quick glance at the clock informed him that it was now four days) days, but somehow it seemed longer than that. It felt like months… maybe even years.

Neal just nods, a worried look on his face. He knew he should have never let Elizabeth talk him into staying the night. But he was just so tired. He didn't sleep well earlier either; his thoughts never let him escape into the land of dreams. After what seemed like hours, Neal gave up on sleep and tried once again to find Mozzie. Of course, every single one of his efforts failed.

"If those men followed you here…" Peter stopped mid-sentence, not wanting to even finish that thought. Neal understood though, and that was the only thing that mattered.

"Don't you think they would have tried something by now if they knew where I was?" Neal asks as Peter walked over to the window.

"Not if their smart. They'd use the night time as cover if something went wrong. Or if they wanted a quick getaway." Peter said as he peeked out the window shades. He looked up and down the street, searching for anything suspicious. He was just about to relax when he saw it. A dark colored van pulled up on the side of the road and three men jumped out, guns in hand.

"Damn it." Peter cursed. He turned to Neal and said, "Neal go wake up El and take her to the basement."

Neal stood up instantly, his fight or flight instinct kicking in. He ran up the stairs as quietly as he could and went to wake Elizabeth. When Neal came back downstairs, he found Peter checking his gun for any malfunctions that would spell their demise. Elizabeth was behind Neal, confusion and worry etched into her face.

"What's going on Peter?" She asks and starts to head towards her husband.

Peter puts up a hand, ultimately stopping her from coming closer and said, "I'll explain later. Now please, hide in the basement. I can handle this."

Neal stepped forward with a brave expression on his face and said, "I can help you Peter. Let me stay."

Peter looked at the front door, and then back at Neal. He said, "Neal this is not up for debate! Get in the basement. Now!"

Neal frowned and was about to say something when he felt a hand on his shoulder. It was Elizabeth's. He looked up at her, but said nothing. He knew when to accept defeat.

"Be careful."

And with that Neal and Elizabeth disappeared into the safety of the basement. They escaped just in time, the men having made their way into the house. The two huddled in the cold, dark basement, and hoped… no they prayed that everything would turn out alright. Because if it didn't… Well they didn't know what would happen to them. Would they be killed? Tortured?

The not knowing was torture enough for Neal. He didn't know about Elizabeth, but he knew that he could stand here no longer. He had to do something. Something that would make the men go away permanently.

Finally though, Neal made up his mind. He knew what he had to do. And if doing so meant sacrificing himself… he'd do it.


	8. Hidden

A/N: Forgot to mention last chapter... Kate is not going to be in the story, but she will be mentioned. But don't worry, it won't be for a long long time. The reason why I felt she should at least be mentioned is the fact that without Kate, Neal wouldn't have half the things he does now. Kate is basically Neal's motivation for all the crimes he did. Without it, Neal would just be an ordinary guy. Ish. But you get what I mean. I'll tell you when she's gonna be mentioned once I know more specifically.

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><p><em>Chapter eight: Finally though, Neal made up his mind. He knew what he had to do. And if doing so meant sacrificing himself… he'd do it.<em>

Neal stood and tried to walk towards where he thought the stairs were. Tried being the key word there.

Elizabeth grabbed his hand and whispered, "Neal where do you think you're going?"

Neal stopped moving and said, "I know these guys Elizabeth. They won't hesitate to get rid of anyone in their way. Even federal agents."

There was a loud crash coming from the floor above them, and they could only hope that Peter wasn't on the receiving end of the blow.

"What are you going to do Neal? They've got guns." Elizabeth says as she gives a quick squeeze to Neal's hand. She didn't want Neal to go; she wanted him to stay with her, where it was safe. Peter could handle what was going on upstairs, she knew he could.

Even though it was dark in the basement, Neal threw a smile in Elizabeth's direction. He says, "I wouldn't be worried. I've got a plan to deal with them."

Elizabeth chuckles softly –Neal can tell that she's got a warm smile on her face- and says, "You have a plan?"

"Always do."

Neal turns back to the stairwell, even though Elizabeth is still holding on to his hand. She gives one final squeeze before saying, "Be careful Neal. I mean it."

"You don't have to worry about me Elizabeth." Neal says, trying to cover up the confusion he felt inside. How could they care about him? He was a known criminal and thief for hire. Of course, he was much better known in the criminal underworld than in the streets, but still… He hadn't thought that anyone would come to care for him, much less a fed and his wife.

Sure he had told them about his lack of parental figures, but he never assumed that they would try and become them. Neal doesn't know if he should feel relieved at the fact that he'll finally have people to look up to, people who aren't criminals, or wary because a Fed was getting close to him. Having a federal agent as a parent when you're effectively trying to hide your criminal past is hard. Extremely hard. Neal isn't sure if he'd be able to do it without giving up the location where his stash is.

Neal smirks at the awkwardness of it all and hopes the darkness covers it, because now is not the time for smirks.

Elizabeth finally let go of his hand and Neal goes up the stairs quietly. He's ready to face the mess he made. The mess that ruined everything. It's his fault for accepting Wilkes job offer, his fault for luring his men here, his fault that Peter is most likely getting beaten.

Neal silences his guilt ridden thoughts, and opens the door, praying it stays silent. It does, and he lets out a sigh of relief. He closes the door behind him and heads upstairs, knowing that's where Peter keeps his phone.

He enters the master bedroom and quickly unplugs the charging phone. He scrolls through the contacts and frowns, realizing he doesn't know the names of the other agents Peter works with.

"Damn." He curses softly. He tries speed dial instead. Speed dial number two brings him to Elizabeth's cell phone. Speed dial number three brings him a phone number labeled Diana mobile. Neal presses send and puts the phone up to his ear, praying that it's the right person.

Someone answers the phone on the third ring. Her voice is still sleep addled, but alert as she says, "Peter? What's going on?"

Neal smiles, seeing as how he's finally done something right tonight. The woman on the phone is the one who helped Peter arrest him. He never caught her name, but that didn't really matter now.

"I don't have enough time to tell you the details. I need you to come to the house, and bring back-up." Neal says, careful to keep his voice down. He doesn't want Wilkes' men to hear him.

"Who is this, and where's Peter?" Diana asks, clearly not recognizing Neal's voice.

"He's a bit tied up at the moment." Neal says, as yet another loud crash echoes from below. He briefly wonders what's going on downstairs, but he soon puts the thoughts to rest. His mind is needed here, and not up in the clouds.

"Tell me who you are, and I'll come." Diana says, trying to negotiate.

"There's no time for negotiations. You're either coming, or you're not. It's your choice." Neal says, as more thuds are heard.

Diana pauses, clearly hearing the racket that's going on in the background. She finally says, "I'm on my way."

Neal hangs up the phone and sneaks back downstairs. There are two men, unconscious by the front door. Only one of Wilkes' men is left, and Neal hopes that it isn't Wilkes himself. Wilkes doesn't exactly trust any of his men enough to grab Neal. He pressed his back up against the wall, hoping no one saw him.

"Where is he?" A man asked, no doubt to Peter. Neal peered around the corner and frowned.

Avery Jacobs –one of Wilkes' men— had Peter pushed up against the wall, his arm holding Peter in place.

When Peter didn't answer, Jacobs only got angrier. He growled and said, "I'll ask you one final time. Where's Caffrey?"

Peter glanced around the room, his gaze immediately locking on to Neal's bright blue eyes. It only lasts for a moment, but Neal can read the message loud and clear. Even in the darkness of the room, Neal can see the bruises that were already beginning to form.

Jacobs shook Peter, demanding an answer. Peter only smiled and said, "He's gone. He ran a few minutes before you and your goons showed up. Good luck finding him now."

Neal leaned back, an uncertain look in his eyes. Peter was telling him to leave, to run and never look back. He glanced towards the back door, freedom calling his name.

He walks toward the door, but stops short. While the option to run was more than tempting… Neal just couldn't leave Peter and Elizabeth behind. Not after everything they've done for him. They gave him food, shelter… things that Neal hadn't been able to give himself for a couple of years now.

He turns away from the door, and walks silently back to his hiding spot.

"I have a tough time believing that. You see, Caffrey's the kind of kid that sticks around after a crime. One that's too cocky to run away after pulling a con." Jacobs says, and Neal can hear the smugness in his tone.

Neal purses his lips, and tries to hold back his feelings. He knows Jacobs is doing this to get to him, to make him come out. The strange thing is, it's working. Normally goading does nothing to him, just amuses him to no point. But this time, when Jacobs is putting him down right in front of Peter… It makes Neal angry.

"What do you even see in him Burke? He has the potential to ruin your career, ruin your very life. Not to mention the kids practically a pathological liar." Jacobs continues, no doubt a smug smile on his face. Neal would have bet anything that Jacobs was enjoying this.

Peter must have made some face, because Jacobs laughed and said, "Let me guess… Caffrey probably told you a sap story, about how his parents abandoned him when he was younger."

Jacobs laughs again, and Neal's hands curl into fists. How can this man… How can anyone think like this? Sure, Neal lied about things he didn't want people to know, but then again who doesn't lie about that?

"I wouldn't let it get to you Burke. It had me thrown the first time too. Now I know not to trust a thing that comes out of—"

"You're wrong." Neal says, interrupting Jacobs. He steps out of his hiding spot and into the living room. He could handle the words that were being said about him, could even understand them to a point. But for Jacobs to bad mouth his parents? That was a whole new level of wrong. Just the fact that Jacobs would go that far made Neal sick.

Jacobs turns to face Neal, a satisfied look in his eyes. He releases Peter from his grasp and takes a step forward. Peter slides to the floor, his feet unable to hold him upright.

"I knew you were still here Caffrey. I knew there was something about them, something that made you stay. I don't know what it is, but I'm glad for it. Makes my job a helluva lot easier." Jacobs smirks. The satisfied gleam in his eye has changed, to a gleam that reminds Neal of a predator, just about to gobble up his prey.

"If you know so much about me, then you know what length I would go to make sure this comes back to bite you in the butt." Neal says, talking with confidence he doesn't feel. All he has to do is stall, stall long enough for Diana to appear with back up.

"And just how would you do that Caffrey? I see no army behind you, I see no one who would ever stick up for you." Jacobs says, his eyes seeing right through Neal's bluff.

Neal smiles a cold smile –one that is reserved for his enemies— and says, "A part of a con's job is to stay in the shadows, to remain unnoticed by the general population. Who says I don't already have an army of cons, just waiting to prove you wrong."

Jacobs' smirk vanishes, and his eyes become filled with nervousness. Neal smirks inwardly, as Jacobs tries to rein in his emotions.

"I… I don't believe you." Jacobs tries to play it off as if he doesn't believe Neal, but it doesn't work. Neal can read him like a book, now that Jacobs showed his true feelings.

Neal shrugs and says, "I never said you had to. But if I were you, I'd sleep with one eye open."

Suddenly, a sound that Neal never thought he would hear came blasting throughout the streets. Sirens wailed, waking those who sleeping soundly.

"Damn it!" Jacobs cursed, and tried to run to the back door. Neal tried to block his way out, but the much larger Jacobs rammed past him, effectively tackling him to the ground.

The air rushes out of Neal's lungs just as the front door is slammed down. A group of agents rush through the house, running after the now fleeing form of Avery Jacobs. Neal tries to sit up, tries to catch his breath, but he can't. The least he was able to do was crawl a little off to the side, pulling his body out of the way of the agents.

After what seems like a few minutes, Peter shows up at his side. He had collected some bruises from the fight, but other than that, he looked fine. He sat down next to Neal, groaning all the way down.

"You alright Neal?" Peter asks, concern and worry flooding his tone.

After finally catching his breath, Neal nods and says, "Yeah, just got the wind knocked out of me. How about you? It looked like you got hit pretty badly back there."

"It's nothing a pack of ice can't fix." Peter says, a lopsided grin on his face. He can't help but find the humor in the predicament he's in. Neal is asking him if **he's** alright, as if his own health didn't matter. Which it obviously does.

They sit there for a few more minutes, soon joined by Elizabeth. She purses her lips at the mess the agents made, but doesn't say anything. She knows how close of a call this was, and she was glad that both Peter and Neal were alive. Sure, they both had wounds, but in time wounds would heal.

Peter knows that by calling in Diana and the rest of the agents, he'll have to face up to hiding a teenage fugitive, but he'll find a way around it. He always does. He also knows that after all of this blows over, he'll have to talk to Neal about certain things that were troubling him. But as of right now, Peter doesn't care. As long as everyone is safe, Peter is happy.

Neal is nestled between Elizabeth and Peter, all three of them sitting on the hallway floor. Neal is somewhat aware of the fact that he'll have some answering to do, especially to Peter, who had unfortunately heard everything that Jacobs said. He heaves a tired sigh, and places his hand on the crook of his elbow. Right now, all he wants to do is relax and quite possibly take a nap. But he knows that it wouldn't really be a good time. He needs to be awake, at least for the next few hours or so.

Once the interviews were over, he'd sleep like there was no tomorrow. And no one could stop him.


	9. To Serve and Protect

A/N: Meant to put this up earlier, on tuesday, but the ending just would not work. Also got distracted by Supernatural and tumblr.

* * *

><p>Chapter nine: Morning, F.B.I HQ<p>

"So let me get this right. You stashed away the prime suspect in your house for a day, and you didn't even think to give me a heads up?" Hughes asks, furious.

"I know how bad this sounds Hughes." Peter says, trying to calm down his now infuriated boss.

"Of course it's bad Peter!" Hughes says with a stern voice. He understands the urge to help the kids who have unfortunately turned to a life of crime, whether by choice or by a means of survival, it came with the job. But he never thought Peter would give into that urge. While Hughes was sure that helping would certainly help the Bureau's image, it would ruin their integrity as a federal agency. There was only so much that the Bureau can overlook.

"Please, just let me explain." Peter pleads. If he does this right, then Hughes will have no choice but to push past the whole –aiding-and-abetting-a-criminal- and help him out with Neal. If it doesn't work however… Peter would be out of a job for sure.

Hughes waves his hand, signaling for Peter to explain. He wants to know what made Peter do this, what made him break protocol.

"Caffrey showed up at my house last night, wanting to talk about the case." Peter starts out, not nervous in the least. He's gone over what he's going to say so many times, that it even feels like the truth to him.

"What about his lawyer?" Hughes asks, not afraid to be thorough. If he was going to do anything he'd need the details.

"He said he didn't need one."

Hughes nods and asks, "What did he say?"

"That he was being set up. He said he was nowhere near Cartiers the night it happened, but rumors on the street say otherwise." Peter says, frowning. He doesn't know how much of what Neal said to him earlier was true, but he hasn't done anything for Peter to not trust him. Except for the pathological liar part. Peter would have to do some digging about that later.

"Do you believe him?" Hughes asks. It's a question he has to ask. He can't just forget about the rules, even though he really wants to. Burke is one of his best agents, one that Hughes can definitely see running the white collar division, if those moronic higher ups made him retire again.

Peter presses his lips together, wondering about the answer. He wants to say yes, because it would make everything so easier on both him and Neal. He wants to say no, because there's something that's still whispering in the back of his mind, telling him that Neal is guilty. That Neal is the one behind this.

Peter bites back a sigh and says, his final decision made, "Yeah. I do."

Hughes nods again, taking in the information like a sponge.

"Those men…" Peter pauses, unsure if he should continue or not. But an imploring look from Hughes makes Peter continue.

"They wanted a part of the cut that Caffrey allegedly has from the jewels. They were pretty damn incessant about finding him."

Hughes raised an eyebrow and said, "Are you worried about him?"

"A bit yeah. If I hadn't been there…" Peter stops talking, not wanting to imagine what could have happened.

"Any word on the man that got away?" Hughes asks, changing the subject. He can tell Peter is somewhat upset about what happened, how he couldn't stop the men from coming into his house uninvited.

"Jones is out looking with Blake. But so far, they haven't found him."

Hughes bites back a sigh. He's worried about how this will affect his division, his agents. There's something about Caffrey… Like he's holding something back. Hughes doesn't know if it's about the case, or if it's something personal. But whatever it is, Hughes doesn't like it.

"You're putting me in a tough spot here Peter." He says. He doesn't want Peter to go in over his head about this. Peter is not only one of his best agents, he is also a friend.

"I know. But it will be worth it. I swear." Peter says, glancing down towards the bullpen. He can see Diana talking with Neal, about what he doesn't know. But he's sure that Diana is handling it.

* * *

><p>"They've been up there a while." Neal says, his legs propped up on the desk. It's the only one facing the door. The other desks are facing the wall, as if the agents could stand staring at the white blank walls. Neal can sort of understand why the desk had been moved, if he worked here he would want to change it as well.<p>

"I wouldn't worry about it much. They're probably just talking about the case." Diana says as she stands close to the desk. She had been the one who taken Neal's interview. Neal told her as much as he could without making himself seem guilty.

Neal hums noncommittally and bites back a yawn. The interviews had taken longer than he thought they would. Diana had been thorough with her questioning. Neal couldn't really blame her for it though. If he was her, he'd be thorough too.

Diana seems to notice his tiredness because she says, "If you're looking for a place to rest, there's a row of cots just around the corner."

Neal's feet fall to the floor in shock. He hadn't thought it was noticeable. Peter hadn't even thought to ask him about his lack of sleep, but that was just because he had other things to worry about. Namely his wife and the teenager now in his care.

"I'll keep that in mind. Thanks." He says, standing up from the chair. He takes one glance at Peter's office and then looks back at Diana.

She smiles and says, "Don't worry I'll tell Peter where you are when he's done."

Neal nods and rounds the corner.

* * *

><p>"So what's the plan?" Hughes asks.<p>

"The plan, sir?" Peter says, confused at first.

"How are you going to keep Caffrey safe? If what you said about those men is true, then they won't waste another minute waiting for him." Hughes says.

"You're right. Even if we have agents tailing him, he'll be able to ditch them." Peter sighs. He knew that if he even tried to follow Neal, the kid would be able to spot him. He would be able to spot anyone actually.

"I'll call in a few favors, have him sent over to the closest juvenile center. They'll be able to keep track of him."

"Hughes he's just a kid. Do you really think that's necessary?" Peter asks, wondering just what Hughes is thinking. Peter has more than a sinking feeling that if they put Neal into a juvenile center, they will not only lose him, they will never hear from him again.

"You said it yourself Peter. He's an extraordinary kid, one who's able to ditch any tail, pick any lock. Where else are we going to put him?" Hughes is getting tired of bargaining with Peter about this. They have to make a decision.

"Put him in protective custody. We can even put him in a safe house." Peter says, hoping Hughes will finally agree with him.

"Peter…" Hughes warns.

Peter knows he's asking for a bit too much, but he's earned it hasn't he?

"I'm serious Hughes. I can't afford to let him slip through the cracks. Not again." He says. Peter will never forgive himself if something happened to Neal when he was supposed to be in his care.

"Fine. But he's staying with you for the time being since your house is now an active crime scene."

"I'm fine with that." Peter is fine with anything as long as Neal is safe. There's something telling him that Neal has been through a lot. Trouble seemed to follow the kid like a magnet, something Peter was not looking forward too.

"Good, because if anything happens to him it's on your head."

Peter nods in agreement, not really caring about how this might endanger him. He leaves Hughes office as soon as he gets the information needed. Elizabeth had just finished her interview with an agent (Perry was his name). She walks out of the room, a tired smile on her face.

They meet halfway and they hug quickly. Once they separate, Elizabeth asks, "Where's Neal?"

Peter opens his mouth to answer, but he closes it when he realizes he has no idea where Neal was. He looks around, a frown appearing on his face.

Diana walks up to them and says, "If you're looking for Neal, he went to the cot room to catch up on some sleep. He looked like he needed it."

The frown disappears from Peter's face as he says, "Thanks Diana."

Upon entering the room, Peter notices Neal right away. He's asleep on the first cot, curled up in a position that Peter would have thought was very uncomfortable. Neal was curled up on his side, one hand jammed under the pillow, the other stretched as far away from his body as possible.

If El had followed him in here, she would have thought that Neal was adorable. Adorable enough to forget all of the potential crimes Neal was capable of committing. While Peter tried to be annoyed, he found that all he could do was chuckle softly.

Peter would have thought that Neal was a light sleeper, being an alleged criminal and all, but Neal only let out a content sigh.

Peter smiled in response and put a hand on Neal's shoulder. He didn't know how, or when for that matter, he got so attached to the kid, but he could really care less about it now. Neal was here, and he was going to stay. Whether he liked it or not.


	10. Just In Time

A/N: What a season finale that was! omigosh. Won't reveal any spoilers though, so you're all safe. Also, not sure if you've noticed or not, but I've been somewhat casually inserting things (phrases, locations, etc) from the episodes into the story. Free internet cookie for those who can spot them.

* * *

><p>Chapter nine: Neal had been in the safe house for a few hours, and he was already bored out of his mind. He wasn't used to just sitting around, waiting for the danger to come. If he was ever in situations like this (and he normally wasn't), he wouldn't wait until the other shoe dropped. He would face the danger head on, no matter what the cost.<p>

Television bored him, and there were no good books to read. Peter had forbidden him from leaving the dingy town house, saying that if Neal so much as thought of leaving, Peter would be after him in a heartbeat. Neal had only smiled and said, "_Where else am I going to go?_"

Peter and the rest of his agents were taking turns watching over him, in shifts that would make any sane man cringe. It was nearing the end of Peter's shift. Neal would hate to be stuck in a surveillance van with any of them. He already hates this, so he assumes that doing surveillance is worse.

Neal walks over to the dining room table, hoping that Peter has anything he can look at. Anything at all.

"Whatever you're going to ask, the answer is no." Peter says, not even looking up from his papers.

"You don't even know what I was going to ask!" Neal says, a disbelieving smile on his face.

"What do you want Neal?" Peter asks, finally looking up from his work.

"I need something to do." He pleads. He doesn't like it, but if he has to suffer through another hour of doing absolutely nothing… he'll go crazy.

Peter gives him a disbelieving look, probably wondering whether or not this is some elaborate con. Neal resists the urge to narrow his eyes in annoyance, because he knows he isn't that desperate to leave. If Neal wanted to leave, he would, and there would be nothing that Peter could do to stop him.

He says, "I'm serious Peter. I'm going a little stir crazy here. Just give me something to do. I'll do anything."

Neal makes a grab for the cluttered papers on the table and says, "I'll even help you with your case."

"Give me them back to me Neal. I can't just let you in on these kinds of things." Peter says, slightly exasperated. He had no idea that staying with a sixteen year old would be so frustrating. He'd expect this from a needy toddler, not a teenager with a penchant for danger.

Neal rolls his eyes and says, "You talk to Elizabeth about your cases all the time. Why can't I?"

Peter feels a slight flush creep around his neck and fights the urge to scratch at it. He knew that Elizabeth had talked to Neal, but he didn't know that she talked about **him**. He'd have to ask her about that later, when they finally had some time alone.

"That's different." He says, trying to keep the shock from his tone. If Neal has noticed, he didn't say anything about it. He's too busy staring at the photo as if his life depended on it.

Neal only shushes him and says, "I'm just looking over the pictures, calm down."

Peter sighs and runs a hand over his face. He knows he won't be able to get the pictures back without talking about the case, so he says, "Good luck trying to find anything. I've been over those about a million times already. Nothing's there."

After a few minutes though, Neal started to grin like a madman. His cerulean blue eyes lit up, like a kid would on Christmas morning.

"What did you find?" Peter asks. He kept on going back to the picture, kept on looking over it, checking for something, _anything_, to go on. And yet it still looked the same as it did before. He knew something was off, but he didn't know what. Or where to start looking for that matter.

"It's what I didn't find actually." Neal says, and it almost sounds like he's thoroughly impressed. Peter doesn't know if he should be disappointed by Neal's criminal behavior or rejoicing because of the new information on a case.

He decides on rejoicing, and asks, "So what didn't you find? It seems perfectly fine to me."

"Exactly." Neal says with a smile. He really does look like a kid in a candy store.

Peter gives him a puzzled look, and Neal huffs a breath. He lays out the picture on the table and says, "There are no mistakes on this painting. Not even on the frame."

"Isn't that the point if you're forging a painting though?" Peter asks. He looks over the picture, trying to find what Neal is trying to explain.

Neal shakes his head and says, "Not exactly. If the painting is too perfect, the authenticators are going to be suspicious. A work of art like this is bound to have a few dents in it. Without the dents…well it just makes it obvious."

Peter looks up from the picture, an impressed look on his face. He can't believe it. He can't believe the knowledge Neal has about this. It's impressive, but also a little heartbreaking because a teenager shouldn't know so much about forging priceless paintings. It makes Peter wonder just what happened to Neal in his childhood to make him like this.

"You got all that from a picture?" He asks, heartbrokenness forgotten. He still can't get over the fact that he's got a lead in the case because of Neal. A lead that would make finding the culprit a lot easier.

Neal shrugs, trying to hide his discomfort. It was an easy mistake to make. Lethal, but easy. It also helped that he saw the original painting in Adler's office. But Peter didn't need to know about that.

An odd chirping noise broke the silence that had started to accumulate between them. Neal was still somewhat shocked that Peter would praise him for his knowledge. He was expecting disapproval, seeing as how the knowledge was about something criminal. And Neal knew how much Peter disliked criminals.

Peter picked up his phone and frowned at the screen once he saw it. He looks back at Neal and says, "I have to go back to the office, Hughes wants an update on the case."

He stands and reaches for his jacket. He continues, "Jones is on his way over. If you need anything don't hesitate to call me or the agents that are posted outside. They're there to protect you, not judge you Neal."

Neal's eyes narrowed a bit, but he held his tongue. He knew that now was not the time to aggravate Peter. Not when he had so much at stake. He knew what Peter risked getting him here to safety. And by all means, Neal was grateful, thankful even. But those feelings don't necessarily extend to the agents that are following his every move. The nameless, faceless agents that only thought of themselves instead of the things they could be doing to save lives.

The silence in the house became unbearable as soon as Peter leaves. It was as if something was about to happen. Something bad.

Neal shuddered involuntarily; he had enough of the bad things that seemed to only happen to him. He walked over to the bookcase, his normally quiet footsteps echoing in the dead silence of the house. He breathed out a soft sigh of annoyance and sat down beside the bookcase, hoping that this time he'll find something useful to read.

About 15 minutes into his search, -which had once again proved fruitless- Neal's phone began to buzz. Neal closed the book he was looking through and reached for the phone that was by his side. Upon seeing the caller I.D however, Neal jumped up instantly.

He set the book precariously on the shelf, making sure it wouldn't fall over before leaving it alone. He looked at his phone once more, ensuring that it wasn't a joke. He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding when the new text message was still on his phone. It was from Mozzie.

He opened it and frowned uncertainly. It read, '_Corner of Kenmare and Lafayette, parking garage. 20 minutes._'

Neal eyed the old grandfather clock and smiled slightly –he had just enough time to get to the meet—.

He doesn't respond to the text, instead he shoves his phone into his pocket and walks toward the back door. When he reaches the door however, he stops.

Neal bites his lip, doubt surging through his mind. He knows that he has to go, that he'll be essentially failing Mozzie if he doesn't go. But there's something holding him back. Something Neal can't define. He knows it's not this house, not the protection, and it's definitely not the Feds that are constantly watching him. Something is making Neal feel all of this doubt; uncertainty is practically flooding his veins.

Neal may not know what it is, but that doesn't mean he can't find it annoying.

WCWCWC

Peter was about halfway to the office when he gets a phone call. He smiles, and answers. "Hey Jones. Is Caffrey giving you any trouble yet?"

Jones pauses, as if he can't quite find the words to explain what just happened. Peter calls out his name, his tone adding questions that Jones has no answer to.

"Peter… Neal's gone."

Peter rammed his foot on the brakes, ignoring the series of beeps coming from other drivers.

"What do you mean he's gone?" He asks, his tone harsh. He doesn't mean to be, it's just that every time he thinks he has Neal under control, he just has to go behind Peter's back and do something incredibly stupid. Like leaving the safe house.

"No one is here. It looks like he just up and left." Jones says, and Peter can just tell that he's looking around the room, searching for some clue that would lead them to where ever Neal was.

"Damn it. Try tracing his cell." Peter says, pulling a U-turn so fast that it would make anyone hold on for dear life.

"On it."

Peter hangs up on Jones, knowing the man will call him if he finds anything. In the meantime, he tries calling Neal. He curses again when it reaches his voicemail.

"Where the hell are you Neal? You weren't supposed to leave the house!" Peter barks into the phone, well aware that Neal won't listen to his message. He doesn't even know if Neal still has the phone. For all he knows, the phone could be knee deep in a dumpster, probably thrown away by Neal himself.

Peter pulls over, knowing that he can't just drive around the city looking for Neal. He wouldn't even know the first place to start looking. He had been so focused on other cases, cases that took priority, to even acknowledge the kid. If he had just taken the time to get to know him, then none of this would have happened. If it happened anyway, at least Peter would have known where to look instead of beating himself up over losing Neal.

He runs a hand over his face and sighs. He tries to calm himself down, tries to reassure himself that no, Neal will be fine. Neal will be found, and everything will be okay.

Or at least he hopes it will.


	11. Listening In

A/N: My muse has made a liar out of me. Kate will not be or even mentioned in this story. Nope. Doesn't even come in. At all.  
>I also apologize for the lateness, it was literally fighting me tooth and nail. meh.<p>

For those who found the small connections to the episodes - Crystalzap and vlwillis-, here you go! (_tosses cookies!_) There were three itty bitty connections. The last one was so obscure I don't think anyone would have got it. It was the location of the meet, the corner of Kenmare and Lafayette. It's the parking garage that Neal met with Fowler in Out Of The Box.

* * *

><p>Chapter eleven: <em>He runs a hand over his face and sighs. He tries to calm himself down, tries to reassure himself that no, Neal will be fine. Neal will be found, and everything will be okay.<em>

_Or at least he hopes it will._

By the time Jones calls back, Peter has started driving again.

"Where is he?" Peter asks. He's on his way back to the safe house because he knows that there will be some message, some evidence as to where Neal went.

"He's at the corner of Kenmare and Lafayette. I don't know why though. There's only a parking garage there." Jones supplies. He's puzzled by the information, wondering just what Neal has gotten himself into.

"He must be meeting with someone then. What else would he run for?" Peter says, making a mental list of all the people that Neal might want to meet with. There was Alex, but Peter had no idea who she was. She could be Neal's girlfriend for all he knew. Peter bit back a sigh and drove onward.

"Do you want me to send back up?" Jones asks.

"If we box him in he's going to run." Peter says, and tries to block out the images of Neal running shamelessly into the street, totally unaware of the car that is speeding past.

Peter shakes his head violently and says, "I'll get him Jones."

"Got it." Jones says, and Peter hears him hang up. He knows he's risking a lot coming here alone, but he will be risking a lot more if he scares Neal away. And if Neal wants to disappear, he does, like a puff of smoke. Peter doesn't want to admit it, but it's a talent the kid's perfected. It sure was aggravating, but it also brought a sense of pride knowing that he could take care of himself like that.

He has no idea why Neal ran. He can only assume that it has something to do with his friends. Even though Peter hasn't known Neal for very long, he can tell that the kid's loyal to a fault. The way he worried about his friend…

Peter's eyes widened as it all clicked together. Neal was going to see his friend. A friend that if Peter remembered correctly, had recently dropped off the map. Peter knew that if someone was worried about something, like extremely worried, they would believe anything if it meant that something was okay. Even Neal, an impulsive yet brilliant person, would fall for it.

Peter pulled into the parking garage, careful to not spook the inhabitants. He spots Neal instantly; the dark blue hoodie is stark against his pale white skin. He has the hood pulled up; as if he knows that the F.B.I is after him.

Peter smirks, but he holds his tongue. He parks his car and reaches for the binoculars he always keeps in his car.

He focuses in on Neal's face and is surprised to see him worrying his lower lip, as if he was debating with himself about something important.

Peter frowns and leans forward in his seat. He knows it won't help his vision; it's more of an instinct now that he's been surveying for a while. From what Peter saw, Neal was always sure of himself, his decisions… hell pretty much anything he set his mind to. He held certainty in every decision he made, no matter how big or small it was.

Which was why Peter found it so odd that Neal would be worried about all of this. The Neal he knew would have stridden in there; confidence practically oozing out of his pores. He wouldn't be hiding in the shadows worrying like he was.

It didn't occur to Peter that maybe this was the real Neal, the one underneath all of the facades. It never occurred to him that while Neal may act like an adult most of the time, -when he wasn't bored to death by Peter's paperwork- he really wasn't one. It was another one of his acts, one of his many personas that even fooled federal agents.

Neal's personas were just that; personas. No matter how much Neal wished, or practiced, they were just acts put on in order to remain safe. To remain safe from those willing to do anything to hurt him. These thoughts never even crossed Peter's mind, both his energy and thoughts were directly on the case at hand, not even thinking of the inner workings of Neal's mind. It was something that Peter would come to regret later on.

Peter refocused the binoculars, making sure to keep it trained on Neal's lips. If he got any closer to him, he'd spook the living daylights out of both him and his friend. He would have to deal with getting the information the old fashioned way: through lip reading.

While it wasn't a necessary skill for agents to have, it sure did help on stake outs.

* * *

><p>The doubt Neal was feeling back at the safe house only increased on his way to the meet. It was the one thing that was holding him back; the one thing keeping him hidden in the shadows. He bit his lip, chastising himself because this was <em>Mozzie<em> he was talking about. Mozzie, who was an extreme paranoid, but other than that he was completely harmless.

This gives him little comfort, but it is enough for him to walk into the corridor.

"Where have you been Mozzie? I've been looking for—"Neal stops short, realizing that he's not talking with Mozzie, but with Wilkes.

"Expecting someone else?" Wilkes asks, a coy smile on his face.

"Where is he?" Neal asks, the atmosphere instantly turning tense between them.

"He's been a little busy these past few days. Can't say I blame him though, being held hostage tends to soak up your free time." Wilkes says, a dangerous gleam in his eyes. The gleam makes Neal worry, but he doesn't dare show it.

"You what?" Neal asks, shock evident. He knew something was off, knew that there was a reason why Mozzie wasn't responding. Why didn't he see this sooner?

A bitter voice whispers in his head, telling him things that Neal doesn't like. The voice tells him in hushed tones, that the reason why his brain is so muddled, why he wasn't focusing on the problem of finding his friend, is Peter. It tells him that Peter is to blame, that Peter is the one who distracted him from finding Mozzie. Neal closes his eyes for a fraction of a second, trying to put the bitter thoughts to rest. He needs to be on his game.

"You heard me Caffrey. I have the little guy locked up tight." Wilkes says, grinning smugly.

"Why?"

Wilkes tilts his head back and barks a laugh. Its humorlessness makes Neal shudder involuntarily. He says, "Why the hell not? I gave you the job of a lifetime. I gave you something good here, and you blew it all to hell. You betrayed me Caffrey, and made me look like a fool."

"I've killed people for less, so you should be thankful." Wilkes says, as he places his hands into his jacket pocket. Neal glances around for a moment, only finally realizing what the weather is like. The sun had just set, and the coldness of the night was just setting in. Neal drew up the sides of his hoodie, as the wind blew into the open garage.

"Thankful? You want me to be thankful, when you've got my best friend hostage?" Neal asks, his temper flaring.

"Damn straight I do. I'm teaching you a lesson Caffrey. One that you should never forget." Wilkes says, his eyes dark with retribution.

"Oh yeah? What's that?" Neal quips angrily.

"You never mess with me. Not unless you know what's coming next." Wilkes says with a menacing tone.

Neal presses his lips together, trying to reign in his already flaring temper. Now is not the time to be angry, even though it is for a just reason. Not when Mozzie's life is on the line.

"What do you want from me Wilkes?" Neal asks, jamming his already clenched fists into his pockets. He can barely hold onto this calm façade, but he has to. Otherwise Mozzie will suffer for it.

"Oh that's simple."Wilkes says, smiling. "You give me the jewelry, and you get your little friend back."

Neal opens his mouth, but closes it when no words come out. He can't tell Wilkes the truth about how he has no idea where the jewelry is. Wilkes would probably kill him if he knew.

Neal says nothing, concentrating on holding back the dam of emotions that is threatening to burst free. He doesn't even flinch when Wilkes moves forward, one hand coming out of his pocket.

He pats him on the shoulder and squeezes. He says, "I'll be in touch."

Wilkes turns and walks away, vanishing into the dark corners of the garage.

* * *

><p>Peter leans back in his chair, and lowers his binoculars. He cannot speak; his lips sealed with the shock of what he just witnessed.<p>

He was expecting something different. Hell, he was expecting _someone_ different. He wasn't expecting this… He was not expecting Ryan Wilkes to show.

Ryan Wilkes ran his own crime ring, doing anything from stealing cars to dealing with weapons. Peter knew of him only by his infamous reputation. And his reputation said nothing of wanting stolen jewelry or working with a teenage thief.

Peter rubbed a hand over his face as he tried to process the information he had just learned. He couldn't believe that Neal had worked with Wilkes. Whether or not Neal found him, or Wilkes found Neal, they still worked together, and that fact shocked Peter. It shocked him because he knew Neal didn't like violence, the kid didn't even like guns.

Wilkes was practically known for his more than violent crimes. Crimes that have put him on the F.B.I's watch list for a long time. Peter hasn't worked on any of the cases himself, but that was only because Wilkes never strayed into White Collar crimes before. Not like he's doing now. With Neal at his side.

Peter doesn't know what to do with the new information. If he goes to Hughes, he'll be risking a lot. Neal will be brought in for questioning again for the heist, and there won't be an expensive lawyer this time to save him.

He huffs a sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose, knowing a headache will be coming soon. Headaches have become somewhat constant since Neal became a part of his life. Peter doesn't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing, but there isn't really anything he could do to stop it from happening. To be honest, he kind of likes it.


	12. AN

gah totally sorry i deleted the edited chapters by mistake AND I DIDNT MEAN TO and yeah just keep going this is just a place holder because i did a dumb.


	13. Beep

gah totally sorry i deleted the edited chapters by mistake AND I DIDNT MEAN TO and yeah just keep going this is just a place holder because i did a dumb. I am so incredibly sorry about this like i thought i had everything all set and then i didn't and yeah it was a mess. keep reading nothing to see here except for me blubbering about this KEEP READING also review


	14. Explanations

Chapter twelve: _He huffs a sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose, knowing a headache will be coming soon. Headaches have become somewhat constant since Neal became a part of his life. Peter doesn't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing, but there isn't really anything he could do to stop it from happening. To be honest, he kind of likes it._

Peter sits in his car, binoculars lowered. Wilkes has disappeared from view, but Peter can't find it in himself to exit his car.

The pang of disappointment and guilt in Peter's chest had only grown during the conversation between Neal and Wilkes. Disappointment, because Neal had betrayed the trust Peter had placed in him. It was as if the kid couldn't stay put unless Peter was there to keep an eye on him. Guilt, because it was the attention from Neal's arrest that got him into this position in the first place. It got his friend captured, and most importantly, it got a bull's-eye on his back.

A hand taps on Peter's window, stopping Peter from wallowing in the guilt and disappointment that was beginning to fester. Peter looks up, startled, but the shock fades instantly once he realizes that it's Neal tapping on the glass.

As soon as Peter rolls down the window, Neal says, "Peter what are you doing here?"

"What do you think I'm doing here Neal?" Peter asks with a stern look on his face. "I'm here to take you back to the safe house."

He decides not to comment on what he saw happen, thinking that that particular conversation is better off said later, when both of them are in the house, safe and sound.

"Peter I…"Neal drops off uncertainly, unsure of whether or not he wants to speak. He knows Peter probably has loads of questions for him, questions that will most likely get them both into trouble, but Neal isn't sure if he has all the answers. He isn't sure of a lot of things nowadays.

Peter seems to understand because he just nods and unlocks the car. Neal walks around the car and sits in the passenger seat, looking everywhere except for where Peter is. The more he looks at Peter, the more Neal wants to spill his guts, wants to tell him about everything.

Neal closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. He needs to relax, needs to gain back some self control. He takes another breath, letting it out slowly.

He hears Peter ask, "Do you need me to stop the car?"

Chuckling, Neal opens his eyes and says, "No, I'm good."

"Are you sure? Because if you need to…" Peter stops talking once he sees Neal's smile and smiles back sheepishly. He says, "Sorry I just thought…"

"It's alright Peter I understand." Neal says. Elizabeth has told Neal on more than one occasion how bad Peter is with comforting people, so Neal understands. And although Peter's assumption of his need to puke did cheer him up a bit, it still didn't amount to the fact that his best friend just got kidnapped by a man that wants Neal dead.

The rest of the car drive is silent, and Neal is thankful for it. It gives him time to think, time to reassess what his next move is. Neal doesn't even know how Wilkes knew about Mozzie. Neal had been the one who did all of the talking, he was the one who organized everything. Mozzie had gotten the right information, the right equipment… He never even made contact with Wilkes.

Neal bites the inside of his cheek, letting his thoughts wash over him. He can't keep thinking of how all of this happened, it will just make things more complex than it already is. In order to save Mozzie, Neal will have to exchange the jewels. He doesn't have time or the tools to make another set of forgeries; he doubts that Mozzie will survive if Wilkes finds out that he's been tricked, again.

The only problem with his overly simple plan is that Neal has no idea where the jewels are. He last saw them with Mozzie back at the ratty apartment they were staying in. He had no idea if Mozzie had hidden them away in one of their stashes already, or if they were on their way into someone else's hands.

If he failed in finding the jewels… if he didn't get there in time to save Mozzie… Neal doesn't know what he'd do. He can't lose a friend, not again. He's already suffered through the pain once, and he knows that it doesn't go away easily.

Neal gets so wrapped up in his thoughts that he flinches when Peter places a hand on his shoulder.

Peter doesn't notice –or if he does, he pretends not to- and says, "We're here."

"Sorry, I must have spaced out." Neal says, unbuckling himself and reaching for the car door.

Before Neal can escape to the confines of the safe house, he sees Peter open his mouth, like he's about to say something. Peter's mouth closes and he unbuckles himself, as if he's rethinking about starting a conversation.

Neal leans back in the passenger seat, looking imploringly at Peter. Peter holds his gaze and says, "We'll get him back Neal."

"You don't know Wilkes like I do Peter. He'll stop at nothing to get what he wants."

Peter's eyes narrow and he says, "How do you know him so well Neal? How did you get into this mess?"

Neal sighs exasperatedly and says, "It's complicated."

"I can't help you if you don't tell me the truth Neal. Why is Wilkes after you?" Peter asks, fighting back the urge to put a hand on Neal's shoulder. He knows Neal needs space, but the urge to hold him tight still lingers.

"I… screwed him over." Neal says, voice quiet. His eyes are cast downwards, his gaze locking onto the floor mats.

"You what?" Peter asks, not out of shock, he just didn't hear what the kid said.

"He offered me a job, and I double crossed him." Neal says, his voice louder. He sneaks a glance at Peter, but it shrinks back down when Peter purses his lips.

"Neal…" Peter says, and he resists the urge to rub a hand over his face. He can't believe the messes Neal gets himself into. Trouble just seems to follow him around like a magnet.

"I thought I'd be long gone before he noticed. But he has-"

"And now he's making your life a living hell?" Peter asks, interrupting Neal.

"Something like that, yeah." Neal says, worry flashing in his eyes before they revert back into orbs of blue so bright that it could blind you.

Peter huffs a humorless laugh and says, "You get yourself into the most dangerous messes, you know that right?"

"It's been a recurring problem." Neal says, flashing a somber smile.

Before Peter can say anything though, his phone starts to ring. He plucks his phone out of his pocket and answers it, "Hello?"

"_Hey Boss, is Caffrey with you?"_ Diana's voice rings through the phone, her tone is serious, but Peter can tell that she found something out.

"Yeah, we just pulled into the driveway. What's up?" Peter asked, his fingers still on the keys that are in the ignition. He was about to pull them out when Diana called.

He's just about to pull them out when Diana says, _"We just found the man who broke into your house."_

"When?" Peter asks, turning on the ignition.

"_He's been stirring in interrogation for about half an hour now. I thought you would want to take the first crack at him."_ Diana says. She offers no more information, but Peter knows that she'll brief him more when he gets there.

"I'm on my way." Peter says, hanging up.

"Peter, what's going on?" Neal asks, clearly confused. He reluctantly pulls back on his seatbelt, and looks confusedly at Peter, who is gazing through the back window in search of oncoming traffic.

"We caught a lead on the guys that broke into my house." Peter says, pulling out of the driveway and onto the street.

* * *

><p>It only takes them a few minutes to reach the office, and Neal glances around quickly, observing everything he missed on his first few times here. He tried to walk closer to the wall, to try to see something that was inscribed on the wall, but he was stopped by hearing someone calling his name.<p>

"Neal." Peter called out, somewhat impatient. He was waiting by the elevator, and motioned for Neal to join him.

Neal walks back to where Peter is and says, "Just looking around Peter, no need to worry."

He knows that he isn't the reason why Peter is worrying impatiently, but it helps them both relax, even if it's for a moment.

The elevator opens, unsurprisingly empty for a night like tonight. The two step into the elevator, Peter pressing the button labeled 21. The elevator closes and Neal wonders for a fraction of a second what would have happened if he did run that night, when Jacobs broke into Peter's house looking for him.

He lets those thoughts loose, letting them escape his mind because now is not the time to think of what ifs. It's time to think of now and what's going to happen.

* * *

><p>Diana meets them at the front of the bullpen, blue case file in hand. She hands it to Peter, who flips through it quickly. He says, "What do you have for me Diana?"<p>

Diana glances quickly at Neal before answering, "His name is Avery Jacobs, a known gun for hire. He's particularly good at kidnappings; we found a stash of rope and cash in the trunk of his car."

"Good job." Peter says, closing the file in his hands. He eyes Neal and nods towards the darkened office next to the conference room. He says, "Wait in my office and don't touch anything."

Neal raises an eyebrow but says nothing. He walks through the bullpen, ignoring the curious glances he's getting from the other agents sitting at their desks. The lights automatically turn on once Neal walks in, and Peter waits until Neal sits in his chair before leaving for the interrogation room.

Peter follows Diana to the interrogation room, watching as she entered the observation room. He waited a few moments before entering, taking a few breaths. He opens the door and walks in, letting it ease shut on its own.

Jacobs smiles when Peter walks into the room, not even caring that he is most likely going to prison after this. He says, "Well if it isn't Peter Burke. What can I do for you on this fine evening?"

"Why did you break into my house?" Peter asks, eyes narrowed and eyebrows furrowed. He doesn't have time to deal with Jacobs's nonchalant answers or sarcastic answers.

"I don't have to tell you anything. I know my rights." Avery Jacobs says, arms crossed over his chest. He's leaning back in his chair, his posture screaming nonchalance even though Peter knows that underneath the surface the guy is somewhat scared.

"You're right, you don't have to tell me a thing. But it might help your cause if you do."

"What are you talking about?" Jacobs asks as he sat up in his chair. He's interested in what Peter has to offer, which unsurprisingly isn't a lot, but Peter has a card up his sleeve.

"If you tell me why you broke into my house I'll drop the kidnapping charge."

"What? I didn't kidnap anyone!" Jacobs exclaims, uncrossing his arms and placing them on the table.

"Are you sure about that? Because we checked your car and found a stash of cash and quite a lot of rope." Peter says, his eyebrows rising.

"The money was for the break-in I swear. Wilkes only paid me to break-in; I didn't have a part in any kidnapping." Jacobs says adamantly.

"Wilkes? You're working for Ryan Wilkes?" Peter says, eyes widening with the new information. Of course Jacobs would be working for Wilkes, of course. It all made sense now, why he went after Neal, why Neal knew so much about Jacobs… Why hadn't Peter seen it earlier?

"I owed him a favor okay? I wouldn't have done it if I knew I was breaking into a fed's place." Jacobs says. He says it like it's an excuse, as if just the thought of not wanting to break into a federal agent's house would excuse him from being charged.

"You must have owed him a lot of favors then." Peter says his voice sardonic.

"He helped me out of a big problem and I owe him. That's all there is to it." Jacobs said, crossing his arms afterwards.

* * *

><p>Neal sat in Peter's desk chair, leaning back slowly. He stretches his back as the chair leans back, and he carefully sits back up once he's done.<p>

He glances over the papers that are strewn around the desk, picking up the closest one to him. He reads it over, surprised at the contents. It was a case file describing a recent theft of the Metropolitan Museum of art. They got away with 4 paintings, all high profile ones that would go for a lot on the black market.

He picks up another piece of paper, and as he reads it a puzzled expression appears on his face. The paper was detailing the possible ways the thief or thieves had got in. One of the ways in, the one Neal would use was listed, and it was marked highly probable for use.

It was puzzling because the style in which the paintings were stolen and the exit/entrance strategy was vaguely familiar to Neal. It was as if the person or people pulling the job had done things exactly the way he would. Not many people were able to do this kind of theft successfully. They had to be quick, nimble, and they had to know where all the cameras and alarms were. And that knowledge isn't easy to come by.

Before Neal could investigate further, his phone started to vibrate in his pocket. He took it out and glanced at the glowing screen before answering.

"Now's not a good time Alex. I'm kind of in the middle of something." He says, still looking over the papers. There was something about this heist that made his stomach churn, as if he knew who had done this. As if something bad was about to happen.

"Well your something can wait, I found something you might want to see." Alex says, her voice full of derision as usual.

"What did you find? Is it about Mozzie?" Neal asks. He's desperate for information, especially if it's about Mozzie. He can't stand the thought of his friend alone and captured, by the man who wants him dead.

"Meet me in our usual place and you'll find out." Alex says curtly. Neal frowns at her tone, and he briefly wonders what the matter is with her before he realizes that she hung up on him.

"Alex!" Neal called out, but it was too late. The phone line was dead.

Sighing, Neal opened up a drawer, grabbed the first piece of paper he could find and wrote a quick message to Peter, saying, "_Peter, I found a lead on Mozzie. I know you wouldn't want me to go by myself, but this is something I have to do on my own. I appreciate everything you've done for me, and I'll try to check in as soon as I can, but I make no promises. -Neal_"

He places the paper on Peter's desk and peers out the clear walls, making sure no one is watching before he leaves. Neal can't believe he's leaving again, especially like this, but he's not doing it because he wants to. He's doing this because he has to. He has to do this, or else Mozzie will suffer.

And it will be all his fault.


	15. Enemies and Allies

A/N: I'm sure you've all been waiting for this update for a while now and I have no excuse. So here you go, hope you enjoy it.

* * *

><p><em>He places the paper on Peter's desk and peers out the clear walls, making sure no one is watching before he leaves. Neal can't believe he's leaving again, especially like this, but he's not doing it because he wants to. He's doing this because he has to. He has to do this, or else Mozzie will suffer.<em>

_And it will be his fault._

* * *

><p>Neal sneaks out of the building with relative ease, keeping an eye on the cameras this time. Most of the agents have disappeared; assumedly to go home or to watch the interrogation Peter is handling in another room. Either way, Neal makes it out on the streets and heads for the meeting place he's frequented.<p>

It takes him a few minutes to reach the closed down Chinese restaurant, the one that he and Alex used to spend time at a few years back. They'd sit in the booth in the far back, plotting up cons and the occasional meet ups with others like them. But ever since the place closed down, they would simply meet up in front of it.

Alex, of course, was waiting by the front door, arms crossed and tapping her foot in impatience. Once she sees him, she calls out, "You're late."

"I told you I was in the middle of something." Neal says, walking up to her. "Now what do you have?"

"I know where the jewels are." Alex smiles triumphantly. She always had a way of finding information quickly. Neal never asked where the info came from, and frankly he didn't really want to. As long as he got the info he needed, everything would be alright.

"Where are they?" Neal asks. He finds it strange that Alex found them before he did, but it's not like he had any time to do an extensive search, especially since he was in the company of an F.B.I agent.

"That's the glory of it. They're in a building not far from here. I can take you to them right now if you want." Alex lowers her arms and shifts towards the street.

Neal gives her an imploring look. "Show me the way."

* * *

><p>It takes a few minutes, but soon both Neal and Alex reach an office building. The lights are all off, except for one room which is at the ground floor.<p>

"Is this it?" Neal questions as he gazes around the building. It's a simple looking building, although Neal can tell that some important business must go on inside. It has a certain feel to it, as if the history of the building bleeds through its walls.

Alex nods and motions towards the side entrance of the building. "It's just through here."

"Aren't you coming with me?" Neal says when he notices that Alex isn't following him through the door.

"Just go on without me. I need to double back and check if anyone followed us here." She's holding the door open, glancing back into the dead of night trying to spot anyone that would ruin their plans.

"I can wait." If it was anyone else with him, he'd go on alone but with Alex it's different. It's not that Neal doesn't trust Alex; it's just that in the past she has done a few things to sabotage his plans. Like sending him in to talk with a very angry mark about the possibility of having purchased a forgery.

"Those jewels aren't going to be there forever Neal. Just go."

"Fine." Neal turns away from her and starts down the hallway. It's a short hallway that leads to the main room, the one Neal saw earlier with the lights on. As Neal makes his way down the hallway he notices something. He notices the faint sound of music playing. It's loud enough to be heard from the hallway, but it's so soft that Neal can't make out what is playing.

By the time he reaches the room the music is louder and much clearer. It's a piece of classical music, but Neal doesn't know which one. It could be Beethoven or Bach for all he knows. There's a brown backpack on the table in the middle of the room, the very same one that Neal used to transport the jewels. He moves towards it but stops when he hears someone approaching him.  
>"Long time no see Neal." A familiar voice calls out.<p>

Neal turns around, facing the man who called out his name. His eyes widened at the sight of the man before him. "What are you doing here Adler?"

"I could ask you the same thing Neal. What are you doing here at this hour?" Adler stares at Neal with eyes as cold as ice. The way Adler was staring was almost predator like, as if he had finally caught his prey. Which in a way, he did.

"There's something in here I need."

"Oh what a coincidence, there's something I value in here as well. Care to guess what it is?"Adler grins menacingly as only a villain can pull off.

Neal looks around looking for something Adler might have an interest in but then it hits him. The something Adler needs is… "Me. You need me."

"I knew you'd catch on eventually." Adler says smartly.

"Now here comes the fun part." Adler continues. "I have something you need and you have something I need. How about a fair trade?"

"The jewels for what, my skills as a thief?" Neal asks somewhat sarcastically. Adler could have his pick of any thief in the whole wide world, and he goes with him? Sure it was flattering to Neal's ego, but even Neal could tell there was something suspicious about it. Anything Adler did was suspicious to be honest.

"Something like that yes. You'll be taking on a few assignments from me with an added bonus of course." Adler's tone remained emotionless, and it is almost as if he is bored with the notion of negotiating with Neal. As if he has somewhere else to be. And maybe he does, god only knows what Vincent Adler gets up to in his spare hours.

Neal pauses for a moment, licking his lips. He has no time to think about the possible outcomes, the different ways this could unfold. He has to do this. For Mozzie's sake he has to. "I'll do it."

* * *

><p>"Why the kidnapping charge Boss?" Diana asks. She was in the observation room when Peter was interrogating Avery Jacobs, and well adding the charge was a bit puzzling since no one had been reported missing or kidnapped from their case.<p>

"One of Neal's friends got kidnapped by Ryan Wilkes. Neal ran off to go meet up with him earlier at the parking garage."

"So Neal went alone to talk with Wilkes. Isn't that just a bit.. reckless?" Diana glances at Peter, looking for answers. Peter had spent the most time with Neal in the safe house so he knew Neal a bit better than the others, but there was something about the kid that screamed at Diana. She didn't know what it was but she felt a need to help him somehow.

"I don't think Neal is familiar with the term." Peter says dryly. He was well aware of Neal's recklessness; it was one of the reasons why he worried over the kid. Once Neal made up his mind there was no going back.

"He really thinks he can take Wilkes on alone? Hasn't he ever heard of letting the federal agents handle it?"

"I doubt it Diana. He's been doing things on his own for god knows how long. He probably doesn't remember that there are people willing to help." Neal never divulged much about his past, he never said a peep about it to be honest- save for that moment in his dining room-, but Peter got a feeling in his gut that it wasn't a pleasant childhood.

"It's going to get him hurt if he continues, you know that right?"

"Oh I know Diana. I just hope I can stop it from hurting him too badly" Peter wouldn't admit it out loud to anyone -save for Elizabeth maybe- but he worried about Neal. Trouble seemed to follow Neal around like a magnet and while Neal was an expert at avoiding it by the thinnest hair, what would happen if it got to be too much?

* * *

><p>Peter walks back in the interrogation room, sitting across from Jacobs with a manila folder open on the table. He's eyeing the evidence report, looking for that one little piece of evidence that would nail the last vestige of the case.<p>

"What's with the rope then?" He asks.

"What do you mean?" Jacobs looks up at Peter, looking slightly confused.

"The rope in your car. Why do you have so much of it if you never kidnapped anyone?"

"Now that you mention it I did let one of Wilkes' goons borrow it. He said he had to pick up a few things." Jacobs is completely oblivious.

Peter held back a sigh. Jacobs must have forgotten to mention that tiny detail; the one that could potentially break the case wide open. "And you never thought that he would use it to frame you as a kidnapper?"

"Honor among thieves maybe? I don't know man. I was only in it to get my favor straight with Wilkes and to mess with Caffrey."

"To mess with him, huh." It sure was one way to mess with Neal. It was cruel but then again Jacobs got paid to make things cruel.

* * *

><p>Adler had finally disappeared for the night -he claimed that he had businesses to run and money to launder- and Neal stayed behind waiting for Alex. She waltzes in a few minutes later, the jewels in hand.<p>

"Why didn't you tell me that Vincent Adler was your source?" Neal asks, frustrated. He's more than a little peeved that Alex didn't tell him who she was working for. But then again it's normal for Alex to be secretive like that. He's just frustrated that he fell for it. Again.

"He's not my source Neal. Adler and I are working together." Alex says with an air of nonchalance. It's as she's correcting Neal on something as simple as the weather.

"You have got to be kidding me." That's almost as worse as having Adler as a source of information. Neal sighs.

"Sometimes you have to make a deal with the devil Neal." She shrugs.

"Alex he might have had a hand in Mozzie's kidnapping!" Neal cries out. What Adler was doing was suspicious to Neal from the start, and him being involved with Mozzie's kidnapping explains it. Why else was Wilkes at Adler's place that day?

"How?"

"There's no way that Wilkes could have known who to take as leverage unless someone told him." Neal doesn't know how but Wilkes must have found out about Mozzie and knew that he could be used as leverage.

"And you think that someone is Adler? Neal he's trying to help you. He's trying to help us get the big score. Isn't that what you want?"

"I don't trust him Alex. And neither should you."

Before Alex can shoot back a remark, Neal's phone beeps. He glances at it quickly, noticing that he has a new text from Mozzie. Or rather from Wilkes. Neal takes note of the address written in the text before saying, "We'll talk about this later okay Alex?"

Alex nods and hands him the jewels. "Get him back safe Neal."

* * *

><p>"Is there anything else important you want to say before I put you away for good?"<p>

"Now that you mention it there is something."

Peter resists the temptation to roll his eyes. "What is it?"

"I remember hearing some of Wilkes' men talking about a warehouse, one down by the docks. They said something about holding something priceless there? I don't remember what they said exactly but-"

"Where is it?" Peter says, interrupting Jacobs. A warehouse could be the place where Neal's friend is. Or it could be filled with Wilkes' loot. Either way Peter could tell that it was important.

"It's right next to a chinese place called The Walk of Fire. The place has awesome orange chicken." Jacobs licks his lips, as if he was remembering the taste of the orange chicken in his mouth.

* * *

><p>Peter walks out of the interrogation room, a triumphant look on his face. He asks, "Diana how many of us are still here?"<p>

"There's about five." Diana says, the gears in her head cranking away at a plan of attack.

"It'll have to do."

Before Peter can explain more, footsteps are heard from the hallway, and the door is yanked open by none other than Agent Blake.

"What is it Blake?" There's a look of sheer terror and panic on Blake's face, as if he was the cause for the madness.

"Sir... The kid in your office-" Blake stammered. He looked at Diana for guidance but as soon as their eyes met he looked away in fright.

"What has Caffrey done now?" Peter holds back a sigh. He couldn't leave Neal alone without him doing something rash.

"That's the thing sir. He's gone. And he uh, he left this on your desk." Blake hands Peter a folded piece of paper and steps back towards the door. It was clear that Blake blamed himself for Neal's disappearance.

A frown starts to pull at Peter's face as soon as he's done reading the piece of paper. As far as things go, Neal could not have picked a worse time to run off. Especially when there was a someone like Wilkes after him.

"What do you want to do Boss?" Diana questions.

"It's safe to assume that Neal knows where his friend is and that he's on his way there right now. He's got what- about a twenty-five minute head start? If we go right now we'll able to catch him and Wilkes." Peter stands and takes one last look at Jacobs before turning towards the door.

"..Sir.." Blake is still standing in the doorway, inevitably waiting for his punishment for letting Neal escape.

"We'll talk about it later Blake. For now, you're coming with us. Tell the others to get ready." Peter says, watching as Blake steps back and jogs towards the bullpen.

"Think we'll find him Boss?" Diana questions. She's sure that Neal will be found sooner or later, but there are questions that need answers and the only way she and Peter are going to get them if Neal tells them. Which, unfortunately, is a long shot. Especially with Neal.

"I think so." Peter is confident they'll find them both in time, however there's a small voice in the back of his head whispering about the darker side of the situation. Like what if all of this is just some con, and Neal has been playing them the whole time? What if they don't make it to Neal in time? What if- Peter shakes his head to clear his thoughts and heads out the door, with Diana following behind him. They'll find Neal. They have to .


End file.
